


If I knew then

by Mariss95



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: (in which they are not siblings), F/M, Set in Season 1, completely ignores following seasons', follows season 1 canon, mentions of oliver x laurel in the past, tommy x thea relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariss95/pseuds/Mariss95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, pre-island. Oliver is still a playboy when he meets Felicity in a club. He's not her type but she's not herself that night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If I knew then

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a response to the following prompt an anon sent at tumblr:  
> “AU olicity where Oliver is still a playboy and he meets Felicity in a party or club. Oliver and Felicity hook up and then keep seeing each other, keep having sex. Only for felicity to find out that Oliver is with Laurel.”  
> So here it goes :)  
> It doesn’t contain spoilers  
> Enjoy!

Felicity pushed through the rowdy crowd until she reached the bar. The club was packed; it was well past two in the morning. She signaled the bartender and ordered another margarita. It would be her fourth, or was it her fifth? She shrugged that thought off, she deserved it anyway.

This wasn’t like her. Felicity Smoak wasn’t really a party animal but when Carrie had invited her along, as she usually did, Felicity had said yes. She had put on her best heels and tightest dress, done her hair and make-up while downing a glass of wine and left her apartment. There would be no more tears.

Still as she looked around at the cheerful crowd that danced to the music, she wished she were home. The bartender tapped her shoulder and set a new drink in front of her.

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?” she yelled, her voice drowned by the loud music. The guy shook his head and pointed to the other side of the bar. Felicity followed his lead and met eyes with a handsome stranger. He gave her a slight nod and a broad smile. If she had been sober she would have felt offended, but today she wasn’t her normal self. It had been three weeks since her world had crumbled down, as she had walked in on her fiancé with another woman. So instead she smiled back and downed her drink, meeting his eyes. She saw over the rim of her glass how the stranger strutted towards her until he was standing inches away.

“Hi” he simply said, eyes travelling the length of her body. “Can I buy you another drink?” he finished, signaling her now empty glass. She merely nodded, feeling heady, and not only because of the alcohol. The stranger leaned against the bar and, after placing their order, turned to her. He pressed a hand against her hip and leaned in to whisper sultrily in her ear. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his hands on her, his velvety voice drawing her in. A few whispered pleasantries and she was craving more of him. She knew he wasn’t her type, that any other night she would have sent him off with a sarcastic remark. But not tonight, she just wanted to feel something other than pain. So she let him take her away and for that night she forgot about it all.

* * *

The next day she awoke in a strange bed, her head throbbing, barely seeing straight. Sitting up she took in her surroundings until her eyes fell on the sleeping form beside her. Memories from the night before crashed over her like a tidal wave. The club, drinking, a very handsome stranger, flirting and then the sex. A faint blush crept over her cheeks as she recounted how he had dragged her into his bedroom, hauling her up without any effort, and taken her against the wall. Then their clothes had been tossed away as they begun kneading, exploring every inch of new skin revealed.

She looked down at herself, red marks beaming on pale skin, and held the sheet tighter against her naked body. She was starting to panic, a little voice telling her this wasn’t her, when he slid his arm around her waist. _Oliver_. That was his name, the one she had cried in the middle of the night.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he mumbled, nibbling at her neck.

She hesitated, not finding a clear answer. This, as unlike her as it was, felt right. For the first time in a long time she was enjoying herself, troubled thoughts gone. So how bad could it be? Making up her mind she turned around in his arms and brushed her lips lightly over his. For now she would just _feel_.

* * *

And feel she did, every other day for the next few weeks. He would call her up or she would text, and before she knew it he was knocking at her door. It was intoxicating: the sultry smile he would send her way as she let him in, his hand cupping her face so delicately, the feel of broad hands against her thighs, how their lips moved in sync. She craved for him, and gave as much as she got. Now her nights were filled with ragged breaths and desperate touches.

She wasn’t proud of it. After all, she barely knew him. But it felt too good to let go, knowing the moment he was gone from her life she would have to deal with her past again. So she gave in to him, time and again.

* * *

It was almost two months after they’d first met when she found out who he was. Up until then they had gone only by first names, trying to keep it simple, uncomplicated. They hadn’t shared much personal information about themselves, and it had all been done in secrecy. So she was taken aback when she found his face plastered on every magazine in town. What made it worse was the gorgeous woman holding his hand and the striking diamond ring she wore on a particular finger.

She felt numb, a humorless chuckle escaping her lips. Of course it had to be. Oliver Queen, _her_ Oliver, was getting married to his long-term girlfriend. She should have seen it coming. Oliver seemed like the partying, cheating type. At first she didn’t care, she really shouldn’t care, they were nothing. Yet it hurt, more than she expected, especially the thought of _being_ the other woman.

He reached out to her that night. His once welcoming touch now made her flinch away in disgust. He looked hurt, not being used to rejection, but eventually walked away. Felicity leaned against her door and downed a glass of wine, unshed tears clouding her vision.


	2. Love your memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver is back from the island. What has Felicity been up to this five years?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, I wrote more of this prompt. I planned on writing just this chapter but as I kept writing I couldn't stop and, as always, the characters have a mind of their own and I couldn't close it out as fast as I wished. So I'm turning this into a multi-chapter story.  
> I have all the great people who encouraged me to continue writing to thank for this. You are trully wonderful! I hope you like it so far.

** LOVE YOUR MEMORY **

_I don't want to see you or feel you_

_I don't want to look into your eyes_

_I don't want to touch you or miss you_

_I just want to love your memory tonight_

_You were something else to look at_

_Your intentions they weren't' all bad_

_You tried to make me something I wasn't_

_Lord knows there ain't no future in all that_

 

 

She should’ve seen it coming.

He had been back almost a month now. She could recall clearly the morning she found out he was alive, barely it seemed, or at least that’s what the news were saying.

It had been over five years. Five years since she had last seen him that fateful night he came by to apologize, after she had found out about his fiancé. Five years since she had slammed the door behind him, drinking herself to oblivion, swearing never to think of him again. Five years since she had last felt his touch, felt the warmth that was Oliver in her life.

It had been over five years since he had sailed away with his father and his fiancé, only to get lost at sea. But now he had come back.

Felicity stood petrified by the door to the salon at Queen Manor, her eyes glued to his back, where he stood across the room. She didn’t think he would’ve been there. After all this was a business event, one Walter had insisted upon her attendance, and he wasn’t seen anywhere near Queen Consolidated now or even before, actually.

But there he was. As he turned around she studied him from the distance. He looked the same in many ways; same deep blue eyes, towering height that felt just right and a sly grin in place. Still he was different.

Hard lines marked his face now and the cockiness he once displayed in every move was now gone. He stood still, broad shoulders and ample back rigid under his well-tailored suit. He looked uncomfortable, tense and on guard. The Oliver Queen she once knew was his best with an audience, navigating the crowds with ease, being used and even craving the spotlight. This Oliver seemed anything but.

He seemed bothered by the proving eyes of the crowd in his house that was more than eager to figure him out. Though he was trying to play it off, nodding numbly at the men talking at him, she could see right through it. It was strange how easy she could read him.

It’s not that Oliver hadn’t been in her thoughts during his time away. There’d been many nights where she had lain awake pondering the what if’s. What if she had asked him to stay? What if she hadn’t met him at all? Would he still have gone away?

To this day she still had his voicemail on her phone. Though it was quite pointless, since she now knew it by heart.

_“Felicity… please answer, I know you’re there… Can you just… fuck! I tried to tell you. I wanted to. This thing with Laurel, it’s complicated, but it’s not like you think! You just… I knew you would be upset and I didn’t want to stop seeing you. I can’t. I get that you need some time so I’ll back off for now, but just know I’m not gonna quit on you, ok? I’m going with my dad to China for a few weeks on our boat. Laurel is coming too, just so you know. I’m gonna sort this out, I promise. Just… don’t close the door on us, please. Wait for me… Ok, I should go. Please don’t hate me.”_

Not even a week later she was standing at his funeral. She had stayed by the back, grieving something that had barely started before falling to pieces. Though short, her relationship with Oliver had marked a before and after for her. She had replayed his voicemail, trying to etch to memory the sound of his voice, the way he said her name.

After that she had taken the offer to work at Queen Consolidated, and had devoted her life to it. Only Tommy knew of their affair; he had seen surprised at seeing her there at first, but hadn’t said anything about it. After all he had been grieving his two best friends.

Over the years she had kept her head down, grateful that her time with Oliver had stayed between them and hadn’t made the tabloids. What a field day they’d had unburying Oliver Queen’s dirty secrets. After Walter had officially taken over the company he had taken a liking to Felicity, promoting her and even giving her an office of her own. On her spare time she had helped him uncover covert deals going on in the company, some even from his wife. Felicity had gradually found out there was more to Moira Queen that met the eye.

She had been with Walter, actually, when the news broke out. Billionaire cast-away had been found alive. His father and Laurel Lance hadn’t been as lucky, Oliver being the only survivor.

As Felicity watched him in the normalcy of his home it felt strange. A champagne flute in his hand, QC executive talking him up, women everywhere eyeing him appreciatory. It seemed normal enough, except it wasn’t.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Oliver turned around, piercing blue eyes meeting hers. Even across the room she saw the sharp breath he took, easily recognizing her. There went her theory he had forgotten about her, about them. She didn’t know if she should feel flattered or scared. She had spent so long trying to forget him, his touch, the way he had made her feel and his words from that voicemail. And with one single look it all came crashing back.

Oliver excused himself from the conversation going around him and walked through the crowd, oblivious to the curious eyes on him, until he stood before her. She stood paralyzed by his gaze, mouth agape, trying to think what to say or do next. She could bolt out of there, but her feet were anchored to the spot, entranced by him.

At her silence a small smile stretched on his lips, one that unlike the ones she had seen on him before looked quite genuine, amused.

“I remember you talking much more” his gravelly voice instantly sent a shiver down her spine.

“Yeah well I’m not used to talking to the dead” she winced as the words replayed on her head. “I mean I just didn’t think I would ever talk to you again, alive or not.” It sounded harsh, even more that she intended it to be, but ultimately it was the truth.

She had spent five years replaying those two months with him. Hating, loving, missing, cursing, cherishing those memories. Finally Felicity had concluded that it was her fault as much as it was his. She had fallen for it, his whole charming act, even though she knew, from that first moment he had walked up to her at that club, that he was trouble.

Still she could swear there was more to him that the playboy persona it appeared at first glance. There was kindness and love in the way he talked about his little sister, worry when he talked about his troubled father and his parent’s ever present fights; amusement and devotion when he told her of his adventures with Tommy. There was so much more to Oliver than simply lust and bravado, and those were the moments that made her miss him the most. The ones that made her stop hating him. The ones she remembered the most during the time he was gone.

But now he was back, standing in front of her, making jokes about how she used to be, and as wonderful as those memories were, the anger came bubbling back up. She was pissed for everything he had held from her; the lying, the cheating, Laurel. But most of all, she was mad at him for giving her hope. She wished he was a villain, that way it would be easier to hate him. But he was sorry, even for the immature guy he was back then, she could tell from him voice, from his hurt expression before the door shut before him that he _was_ sorry.

“Felicity” he whispered, amusement gone from his tone. She snapped her eyes shut, trying to control the heat that took over her at the way he said her name, wishing away the memories from her head. She couldn’t let him get to her again. She was stronger than that, she had to hold on to her dignity.

Blue eyes opened and met his inquiring ones. Felicity mustered all the strength she could, suppressing her anger and pain, and put her best poker face on.

“Oliver” she replied, sternly. “Welcome back. I’m glad you are safe”. That was polite enough.

He seemed slightly taken aback by her coldness, remembering Felicity as nothing but warmth, the one he had held onto on his harshest time on the island. It dawned on him that her memories of him may not be as fond as his, knowing how they had ended. To her she was that same jerk who had cheated on her, or actually on his fiancé with her. If only she knew how he regretted it all, how many times he had replayed those moments and wished he had made it right. If only… but he couldn’t. The only point of being seen in public, at events like this one, was playing the playboy Oliver Queen persona, pretending nothing had changed. That was the only way he could be the arrow at night without getting caught. Except everything had changed; everything _but_ his feelings for her.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the static of the microphone; his mother’s speech was beginning. When he turned around to face Felicity again she was gone, her retrieving form sliding through the main doors before he could call her out.

Turning back to the party Oliver downed the champagne left on his glass. He let her go this time, but not for long. The promise he had made himself on the island on constant replay on his mind. He would come back to her and make it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was part two.  
> I’m experimenting writing Oliver thoughts as well as Felicity's, because as neither of them does a lot of talking here, and they are both suppressing their thoughts and feelings, I feel is the best way to let you know what’s going on.  
> As you can see, their feelings for each other aren't as shallow as they seemed in the first chapter. Now that we've found out what she has been up to in those years it's time to explore what happens next. FYI, Oliver's story in the island as well as what happens in his personal life at the begging of the show remains cannon, minus the Laurel factor since she died on the yatch.  
> Anyway, please review!! Just some kind words or, even better, comments or constructive criticism make my day :)


	3. Center of attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the response has been fantastic! It really means a lot, thank you!  
> I know there are many blanks to fill, like where certain characters are and Oliver’s side of their relationship… and it will all be explained eventually. For now we have some insight into his thoughts now and a glimpse of the past.  
> Oliver in the island is the same cannon as the show. Also I’ll be following the plot of the first few episodes of season one for now, except the Laurel factor.  
> Hope you like it! I really love hearing your predictions and doubts. Please, keep them coming :)

 

_But I'll take my time if you want to_

_And I'll give you what ever you need_

_And I'll wait a lifetime to give it to you_

_Give in to you_

 

It had taken four days. It was a mere four days after that QC party, after she had last seen those blue eyes again.

After spending five years trying to rid Oliver Queen from her memory it had all fallen apart with just one look, one short exchange. After that night she had rushed home, fighting to keep her feelings at check. Oliver Queen had changed, but the effect he had on her hadn’t. The pain and anger that had bottled up inside when he was pronounced dead had burst out and it had taken everything in her not to lash out on him.

After all what was she but just another notch in his belt. At first it had been enough, his intensity and expert touch taking her by storm. But quickly it had turned into much more, at least for her. She had to remind herself that all he knew about him was a lie. That the man that was on the news made much more sense with the Oliver Queen she had met that night at the bar.

Still there was that damn voicemail. The words echoed in her head, the pleading tone, asking her to hold on.

Felicity sunk into her chair trying to refocus on work, shaking that thought away. There was nothing to hold onto.

A knock on the door startled her, almost falling from the chair entirely.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you”

She looked up and met those eyes, the ones she was trying to forget. There was a small smile on his face as she sat back straight, playing it cool.

“It’s ok. I spaced out.”

An awkward silence stretched between them as she avoided meeting his eye, instead focusing on the beat-up laptop he had in his hands.

“What’s that?”

“The reason I came by. I knew you were great with gadgets and stuff and thought you could help”. She eyed him questionably; surprised he even remembered that much about her. “It’s my laptop. I spilled a latte on it and was wondering if anything could be recovered.”

She took the battered computer from him and chuckled under her breath at its appearance.

“Really? Cause these look like bullet holes.”

Oliver shrugged it off, throwing a feeble excuse about his coffee shop being on a bad neighborhood and flashing a charming smile.

He was playing the playboy card, one that had worked all too well years ago, but this Felicity wouldn’t fall for that. Instead she focused on the laptop, cringing at how destroyed it looked. Manhandled computers were her kryptonite. Oliver eyed her as she worked; deeply thankful she hadn’t call on his lie.

A few minutes passed in silence until she stopped working, a deep furrow appearing between her brows.

“How did you know where to find me?”

Oliver froze unsure of how to answer her without making her mad. It seemed like his brain malfunctioned whenever he was around her, as he proved with his latte excuse.

“Back then we didn’t tell each other much. You didn’t even knew my last name”.

From his silence she got her answer.

“You knew who I was?”

Oliver smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry. My family’s security detail found out about us and insisted on a background check. They said it was a standard procedure. I couldn’t say no.”

“And you didn’t think I should know that?” He simply gave her a pointed look, knowing mumbling another apology wasn’t going to help much. She huffed at his silence, “of course, I shouldn’t be surprised; you and your secrets.”

He was slightly hurt at her words, though he couldn’t deny it; she wasn’t wrong. He was keeping more from her than ever before, half his life now being lived in the shadows. He wished he could let her in but he was still figuring it out all himself, still testing the waters with her, to see if she was who he remembered. She was even better.

He had been drawn to her back then. First by her looks, then her wit and tenderness had latched onto his heart, though at the time he hadn’t known how to handle it. It wasn’t until everything was lost, in the solitude of the island, that he really thought about them. Back then he had been a man of action, the few words he spat out were mostly lies to get what he wanted; except with her.

From the moment they met she never asked anything from him. Not his motives, his money, fame, not even his name. She didn’t expect anything in return nor had a secret agenda. Felicity Smoak was only interested in _him_ , and that had been a refreshing change in a world where everyone tried to pick him apart.

Over their few weeks together he had ached for more, running away from Laurel’s side, feeling smothered and craving the easiness of his thing with Felicity. It wasn’t really a relationship, really. Neither had labeled it but in many ways the level of intimacy they had shared topped many of his previous partners. He had told her about his family, even the dark parts hardly anyone knew. She had been open, inviting, not judgmental and wiser beyond her years. Felicity Smoak was something else and he knew he didn’t deserve her, not then and not now.

“Oliver…” she said hesitantly, drawing his attention. “I’ll work on it… Are you okay?”

She couldn’t help herself. Even through the anger and dark place having Oliver back in her life meant she wasn’t blind to the broken man that stood before her. One moment he was fake smiling the next he was deep in thought, worried lines on his forehead, the confidence that defined him before now simply an act.

Oliver pondered her question for moment, his rehearsed answer of _‘I’m fine’_ dying on his lips. He didn’t want to lie to her, no more than he did his family but, unlike them, he didn’t want her to think of him as he was before the island. The shell of a man that came back wasn’t enough either, but he was intent on apologizing and letting her know she wasn’t just a few heated nights in his memory.

“No. But I will be” blue eyes met; no mask in place, letting her see a glimpse of the real him.

She gave him a slight nod, appreciating his honesty. Oliver hesitated, wishing to stay with her but sensing her discomfort. He couldn’t rush this, no matter how bad he wanted to. With one final smile he turned around and walked away, leaving a confused Felicity behind.

Once again she slumped back in her seat, his laptop pressed against her chest. This Oliver seemed like an opposite to the boy she remembered; cautious, apologetic, guarded, remorseful. As much as she wanted she couldn’t drive him away, she was equally captivated and curious about him, wanting to peel off the layers that seemed to cover this new self.

Yet she couldn’t get too close. She knew how easy and oh so wonderful it was to fall for Oliver Queen, but also how devastating hitting the ground had been; those memories as clear in her mind as their happy ones.

No, she would let him come closer, hear him out. They were adults now, after all. She would be civil and read him out, secretly seeking the part of Oliver she had heard on that damn message.

Forgiveness didn’t come easy for her, but forgetting was ever harder.


	4. Untouchable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver goes to her for help; she reaches out for him as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Again, thank you all so much for the kind words!  
> I hope you like where this is going

_Untouchable like a distant diamond sky,_

_I'm reaching out and I just can't tell you why_

_I'm caught up in you, I'm caught up in you_

 

 

The dance went on for a few weeks.

He would pop up at her office in QC with a favor to ask, whether it was to trace an old “friend” or a shipment of arrows; one time even to override a program’s security that she was sure wasn’t part of a scavenger hunt. Still she never called his bluff, simply quirking an eyebrow at him to make it clear she wasn’t buying his made-up stories.

It surprised her how at ease he made her feel. He was cautious in the words he spoke, fewer than the old Oliver used to say, but still a slew of half truths, she had to remind herself. There wasn’t the expected awkwardness between them, mostly silence as he watched her work and a few muffled laughs when she ran her tongue; a trait that hadn’t left her over the years.

Yet it wasn’t lost to Felicity how his eyes lingered on her face longer than necessary, how a warm smile took over his face every time they met, how he delayed leaving and swallowed the words that threatened to be said. Instead his blue eyes would pierce through hers, weakening her defenses, making her question why she was putting up walls when it came to them.

When he was gone and she was left to ponder on it she always came back to the same answer. She didn’t _know_ him, she never really had.

Oliver Queen was a riddle that seemed to get more complicated by the day. Back then when they were barely out of college he had appeared simple enough; the nature of their relationship, if it could be called that, was fun and effortless. But the rug had been pulled from under her, his impending marriage making her re-examine her memories as a web of lies.

Now as he came back to her again and again she didn’t see the same boy but a man weighted down by his choices, still covering himself up with one façade after another, and she was terrified to buy into it only to find herself lying on the ground again.

There were many questions she was itching to voice, the ones that had been eating at her since he had gone away, and many more to try and figure out who this new Oliver was. Yet every time she would bring something up a lie would leave his lips with an apologetic look thrown her way, making her drop the idea all together.

So Felicity tried to keep him at bay, playing a part as much as he was playing his; until Walter was gone.

He had been one of the few people in her life that had treated her without kid gloves, honesty and trust above all. Even when Moira had tried to get rid of her, surely after finding out she had been digging up her affairs, Walter had put his foot down, defending her for her loyalty and talent. In a world where everyone appeared to be something they weren’t, Walter Steele had been sincere, direct. If there was something Felicity could do to help him she would take the chance.

She wasn’t sure exactly how telling Oliver about the notebook would help but there was something about him that drew her in. Though she didn’t trust him with herself, he sure knew how to keep a secret.

So she called him up and asked to meet somewhere quiet, implying her office wasn’t safe enough. As he suggested the manor Felicity blushed, thankful he couldn’t see her reaction through the phone; memories of the night she had spent there, though fogged from the alcohol, were still fresh in her mind.

Big Belly Burger then, he had said.

She smiled timidly at him through the windows before entering the little shop, pleased to find it relatively empty. His gentle smile fell as he noticed how nervous she was, fidgeting with something in her hands.

“Hi”

“Hi… Thank you for meeting me here, I was… nervous to come to your house” she said, biting her lower lip. He nodded, knowing all too well what she was talking about.

“It’s ok” he stated, fighting the urge to reach a hand, to touch her, like he’d wanted to do so many times before.

“The thing is, I've been debating whether or not to share this with you for weeks… can I _trust_ you?”

The insecurity in her voice cut though him; he fisted his hands on his lap to avoid reaching for her.

“Oliver, I'm not an idiot. You've dropped some fairly ridiculous lies on me, and...yet I still feel like I can trust you. Why is that?” she asked, a humorless smile on place.

“Because I can’t really lie to you, even when I know it’s for the best” he pronounced before he could stop himself. It was the truth; when he came back he couldn’t help himself, reaching for her help on his vigilante cases, trying to keep her out of the loop and failing miserably when it came to excuses. With everyone else he was able to balance the double life he was leading now, except with her. He had lied and deceived her enough in the past; he couldn’t do it anymore. Still both Dig and he knew it would be dangerous to bring her into his battle, that she shouldn’t face the dangers they put themselves through.

Yet in the dim light of the shop, blue eyes locked, he wanted to tell her everything. About himself, his father, the arrow. But would she walk away? She kept him at arm’s length, still thinking of him as a cheater. Adding murderer to that list surely wouldn’t help. No, there was still more of him she needed to know and believe before he could unveil the whole vigilante persona to her.

So holding her gaze he muttered four words that he desperately wished she would believe. “You can trust me”.

She hesitated for a moment, blue eyes studying his face and, finding nothing but seriousness, decided to take a leap of faith.

“Have you ever seen this before?” she breathed, handing him the brown notebook.

He knit his eyebrows, examining it carefully. It seemed his other life had caught up to her before he could make the choice to bring her in.

“Where’d you get it?” he asked, eyes still locked on the list before him.

“From your step-father.” She told him all about it, everything Walter had asked her to find and what she had uncovered and he listened quietly, though she could see how tension overtook him, white knuckles now clutching the book at the mention of his mother. She covered his hand with hers, easing the tight grip, worrying for his safety as much as the only lead she had on finding Walter.

“You know something about this.” It wasn’t a question, he had made it clear by his reaction upon spotting the notebook and there was no feeble lie he could throw at her right now.

“I do. I’ll look into it, I promise.” he reassured her, the last promise he had made to her still clear in her mind. Felicity nodded, knowing this one seemed more plausible but silently wishing he would someday fulfill his previous one.

He hadn’t forgotten either.


	5. Everyone's waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver comes clean about his past and his relationship with Laurel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a tough one to write, but needed to be done. I’m really proud of it and hope it gives insight into who Oliver was before the island –in this story– and the kind of man he is now. As always, thank you for the support to this story, and hope you like it!

 

_I know all the lines to say_

_The part I’m expected to play_

_But in the reflection I am worlds away_

_When everyone’s waiting_

_It makes it harder to hear what my heart keeps saying_

_Turn it off, I wanna turn it all off_

 

 

It had been an excruciating week.

Arguing with Diggle, fighting with himself over his mother’s innocence; replaying that damn recording over and over again. There was something going on, something bigger than him, than the notebook.

Upon his return he believed his father’s list was it, his own personal crusade he had to see through. He didn’t expect it to get this complicated, to be questioning whether his father’s demise and his hellish experience in the island due to the shipwreck had been anything more than an accident.

He didn’t think it would be this hard to pretend to be that same man that sailed away back then, that devoted son and public’s punching bag; and he certainly didn’t expect to need _her_ this much.

Oliver had been keeping an eye on her since she had let on how much she knew about Walter’s notebook and the danger it entailed. Part of it was for her safety, but there was more to it, something that kept him going back to her again and again.

It was a little over a week when she called him up rattled, having heard rumors over the web that Walter had been confirmed dead and they were planning a funeral, something he promptly denied, assuring her it wasn’t over. Though that had calmed her considerably she was still shaken so he had offered to go to her.

She had refused awfully fast, that being a line she wasn’t ready to cross yet. The memories of them in her apartment still fresh in mind, even the one night where it all ended. Still he couldn’t let her be alone, not tonight. He needed her as much as she needed him, even if neither were willing to say it.

“Then I’ll send a car for you”

“I’d rather not”

“It’s ok, my mother isn’t home” he cringed at his words “That didn’t sound right. I meant we would be alone”. Nope, that wasn’t better. “Just come over, please… I need to talk to you, in person”.

Felicity sighed into the phone, giving in.

 

A half hour later he opened the door and let her in, silently leading them to the room where they had reunited a few months before.

It dawned on her that they’d never directly talked about anything from _before_ , not even acknowledging what had transpired between them; still it was clear by the awkwardness of their first meeting and the distance she kept between them that neither had forgotten about it.

In all honesty he had wanted to approach the topic quite a few times, while she worked some IT magic for him, but had always ended up swallowing his words. A simple apology wouldn’t do, he was sure that even after all these time she hadn’t forgiven him. But she had been civil and they had eased into a friendship of sorts, in which much was left unsaid.

Yet he ached for more. Even if he couldn’t possibly be the man she deserved now he needed to at least make it right; the image she had of him was one of his past mistakes he desperately wanted to correct.

Felicity wandered into the room, curious eyes taking in the wooden panels until she stopped by the large window overlooking the yard.

“It is unreal this is your home” she whispered, making him wonder even if she was addressing him or simply thinking out loud, another trait of hers he found endearing.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it either… not anymore” he replied honestly. She turned around to face him where he stood against the threshold. The irony not lost in her as this setting mirrored their first encounter after he went away, only this time she suppressed the urge to run for the door.

Walter. That was why she was here.

“Do you have any new leads on him?” Though it had been weeks she didn’t sound hopeless like his mother, only a hint of fear lacing her words. It seemed his words from earlier had appeased her worries.

“Not yet” he admitted, much to his dislike. “But I’m looking into… something”. Arguing with Diggle whether or not his mother was involved had to count for something, though he was still reluctant to believe she was in on this, whatever _this_ was.

“Is it about your mother?” she asked softly. Oliver turned to her, eyes locking for the first time since he had let her in. He held her gaze, letting her question hang in the air, silently giving her the answer.

Given what she had confided in him the week prior, she knew enough secrets about Moira to doubt her innocence. Oliver was taken by how easily she seemed to read him, thankful but terrified at the same time. There was so much darkness in him now that he never wanted her to discover.

“I’m afraid it might be”

She pondered his words, taking in the tired lines on his face and his slumped posture. This surely wasn’t easy on him.

“I could help. Maybe dig in some more, see what I can find. It may be easier coming from me than having to go through it alone” she offered and saw a light smile form in his handsome face.

Still he remembered all too well the pile of casualties that list had brought on, and the threat in his mother’s voice when she advised everyone stopped asking questions. _No_ , he definitely didn’t want Felicity anywhere near that or anything that could make her a target.

“I’d rather not. It isn’t… safe” he muttered, restraining himself of disclosing more. Yet Felicity wasn’t one to back down.

“Walter isn’t safe and he’s my friend. And you… you almost got killed twice already and that was after you survived being a cast away for five years.” There was an edge on her voice, fear starting to creep in, he thought, but she looked angrier than anything else. “No one is truly safe, Oliver. Walter is not the first victim of this… thing, and I’m sure he won’t be the last. So if there is _anything_ I can do to help, please let me.”

She was dead serious, in a way that only compared to Diggle, his right hand, and himself. She wanted in, even though she didn’t exactly know what she was talking herself into. After all she was an honorary member of their team already, but he hoped that being on the outside would keep her safe.

It didn’t seem fair to him to storm back into her life after this long and throw her into his crusade, asking her to put her life in the line for a man she hardly knew; because the Oliver of back then had been shredded long ago, through death, pain and the brutal fight for survival.

Though she was far from weak, Felicity didn’t deserve the pressure and hardship that came with this life he had chosen upon his return. Yet there she was, asking to be let in, to a part of his life hardly anyone knew. Seeing her determination made him wonder if she already knew about his secret identity, his weak excuses and knowledge of the notebook having tipped his hand. She wouldn’t go to the police, that much he was sure of, but would she look at him the same way?

Staring at her from across the room he realized it couldn’t get that much worse. Though not hatred, he could see the distance in her eyes, in the way she crossed her arms against her chest, as if raising a wall between them. Where once she had been open and inviting to him now she was guarded, and he really couldn’t blame her.

She needed to know who he really was, who he had been back then. That was the only way she could ever trust him again, with herself, her thoughts, with her life.

“Do you remember what I last said to you?” he asked after what felt like forever.

“What?” she was taken aback, his deviation of the conversation not going unnoticed.

“When I went away, on the yatch. Not that night at your place, but the next morning. I called you… do you remember?” he paused for a beat, taking in her reaction as she gave a slight nod. She remembered it _all too well_.

“You know back then I used to say lots of things I didn’t mean. Honesty wasn’t really one of my strengths.” She snickered; it still wasn’t. “But that phone call… I meant every word I said. There is so much you didn’t know, so much I wanted to tell you”.

“Oliver, don’t… you don’t have to”, she interjected.

“Except I do. All this time, on the island and since I’ve been back… I’ve pictured telling you everything a thousand times.” He started walking, eyes everywhere but on her.

“I wasn’t that guy you met at the bar, or the one you read on the papers. I was a poster child to my parents who were fighting to make me the son they wanted. I was a role model for little Thea, who didn’t know how clueless I was. I was a boy who just didn’t know who he wanted to be or do with his life, but was coward enough to let people push him around as they pleased.” Felicity listened carefully, terrified of what was to come but anxious all the same; getting honest answers out of Oliver was a rare exception.

“Granted, I failed miserably at all of those. Dealing with responsibility wasn’t my thing; back then I preferred alcohol much more”. He chuckled to himself, surely replaying a reckless night of debauchery with Tommy, before he turned serious again. “I didn’t want to be a Queen with everything it entailed; I would’ve much preferred having my trust fund without the weight of the name. That’s why I didn’t tell you who I was that night”, he paused, eyes meeting hers for the first time since his speech had begun.

“And Laurel… she was one of my best friends, had been for a long time. I really don’t know why she ever wanted to date me ‘cause I was… _me_ , relationships weren’t my forte either. But she did and it was great at first. Over time, with her going to college and me away at mine it started to be too much. She wanted more and I didn’t know how to deal with that. I cheated, taking the easy way out, but she took me back every time.”

He took a deep breath, eyes now lost in the distance, looking through the window behind her. “I didn’t deserve her, but she was safe, everything I knew, so I stuck with it. It wasn’t much of a relationship but my parents were happy, and so was her, most of the time. We’ve been dating for years and my dad wanted me start working at the company to ‘clean up my act’ he said. Mom bought an engagement ring and gave me an ultimatum. I’d marry Laurel, start my career with my dad or I’d be cut off. I wondered if she knew…” he trailed off, now questioning whether the plan to take out his father had already been in motion and getting him ready to take over was just another play in his mother’s chess game.

Shaking that thought away before anger overtook him, Oliver turned to her, studying the play of light on her delicate features. Blue eyes trained on him, Felicity remained silent, urging him to go on.

“I took the deal and proposed. Laurel knew what it was, an agreement, settling for a steady life of something good. I loved her, not like she deserved, but I thought that eventually I would when I became the man I was supposed to be. I thought that would be enough… until I met you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the intensity of his stare too much to handle. Thankfully he looked away first as she tried to take in everything he was saying.

“That night started as many others but, unlike before, I couldn’t let you go. You were… _different_. I felt different with you, safe. Maybe it was the secrecy at first, but I could be myself with you. I was too selfish to do away with what we had because of Laurel, and too scared to be honest with you. I wanted to but had the tendency of screwing up. So I waited, escaping the inevitable.” He went silent for a second and she noticed his clenched jaw, guilt ridden over his past.

“That’s when I found out” she breathed.

His eyes shot to her, taking in her hesitant stance, scared she would make a run for it but knowing this had to be done.

“Yes.” Holding her gaze he went on. “After I left your house that night I felt like hell. I had been happy for the first time in… longer I can remember. As selfish as that was, I couldn’t bear to lose you. I wasn’t brave enough to fight for you but… god, how I wanted to.”

He ran a hand through his hair, approaching the time of his life he never wanted to look back on.

“Next I know my father is dragging me to this oversea trip. Laurel wanted to come along and I saw my chance.” He paused again, struggling with his words, worried lines appearing on his forehead. “We were only a day into the trip at night when it happened. I told her the truth, about us, about how I really felt. She was hurt but took it in and was ready to move on, like many times before. But I couldn’t this time; I wanted something else bad enough to fight her and my parents for it” blue eyes met, his voice dropping.

“We were yelling, not really caring about the storm going on outside. Next I know the yatch shook, we’re tossed to the ground and Laurel… she’s thrown from the room and I’m underwater.” Silence overtook the room as his voice broke, dark memories washing over him.

“My father brought me afloat after a while. He’d made it to the life raft. I tried to look for her but she was… gone.” Tears traveled down her cheeks at his words. Oliver looked at the ground, guilt taking over him. Now the weight she saw him carrying around made sense.

A few seconds passed before he pulled himself together and looked up at her again. “That’s the last time I saw her.” Angling himself to her he took a step forward. “Felicity… I know this doesn’t make it right, that I hurt you. I’m sorry for that, I truly am. I just needed you to know I meant it; you deserved to know the truth”.

She swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded numbly, unsure of what to do with this new information. She couldn’t fathom what he went through, but somehow that didn’t erase the pain she had felt. Before she could form a coherent thought he went on.

“I asked you to wait for me and I don’t expect that you have. But know that I never forgot; not about us or what I said that day. And now everything seems to be falling apart and I wanted… I needed you to know that even then, when I was lost and hadn’t got a clue of who I was, I knew I cared for you. And, in the island…” he paused; it wasn’t lost to her how he winced just at the thought of his time away. “I realized the man I wanted to be; someone good enough for someone like you”. His blue eyes pierced hers as her mouth hanged open, speechless.

“Ok” she mumbled. For someone with a knack for words she couldn’t come up with anything better, still processing all this new information.

“Ok” he echoed, eyes locked on hers.

Silence stretched on for what seemed like ages but still not enough time for either of them to figure out what to do when the sound of the front door slamming shut filled the room.

“Man I get that you’re still not used to being back, but staying home on a Saturday night? That’s lame even for a cast away.”

Tommy stopped by the doorsill at the scene before him. Oliver and Felicity stood too close for comfort, tension thick in the air.

“I guess I should’ve called first…”

Felicity shocked herself from the haze from Oliver’s eyes and took a step back. Mumbling a hurried goodbye she stormed away, throwing a last look at him from over her shoulder.

Oliver slumped back against the wall at the sound of the door closing behind her.

Tommy studied him from afar before carefully approaching him, letting out a whistle.

“So this is what you meant by staying home… I approve”. Tommy smiled, satisfied at Oliver’s chuckle. It took a lot more than before to make him lighten up.

“It’s not what you think”

“Really? Cause it looked like you were in some serious eye sex competition before I walked in”.

“Tommy” Oliver cut him off, a warning in his tone. Still a smile played at his lips, glad his best friend’s humor remained the same.

“Okay. I will drop this, for now. But someday you will have to tell me what’s with you and this girl, Oliver. And move along, cause someone who looks like that won’t stay single forever.” At Oliver’s threatening look he knew that was a touchy subject “Just saying…”

“Don’t.”

“Ok. But don’t get mad when you hear ‘I told you so’”.

Oliver vowed to make sure that never happened.


	6. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity finds out about Oliver's secret, struggling to save his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter basically deals with what goes down in episode 1x14, The Odyssey. It’s one of my favorites and, though here I’m only dealing with what happens in the present, not the island, I hope I made it justice.

 

 

This is not how it was supposed to go.

It had been merely two days since he had told her about his past. She had walked away the moment she had a chance and he really couldn’t blame her. She needed time, he understood, so he fought the urge to run to her, to ask her where they went next and instead focused on the mystery that was the undertaking.

Felicity knew about his past and he wanted her to know about his present, about his other self, the one draped in green at nights. But not like this; and definitely not this soon.

But Diggle had been right, as usual. His mother was a blind spot and he never could see clearly when it came to her. If it were any other target he would’ve spotted the gun she pulled from the drawer sooner, would have read through her diversion, would have probably already shot an arrow through her. But it wasn’t.

He hadn’t been fast enough, still taken aback by how she begged for her life in favor of him and Thea. The familiar sting of a bullet shot through his chest as he ran for cover. It didn’t hit the heart or he’d be unconscious already, but it hadn’t been far. His vision blurred as he stumbled through the parking lot, passing by his bike –he was in no condition to drive– and searching his only real option. Crawling into the small space of the backseat he waited for her, pressing on his wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

He fought the haze that clouded his mind as he heard the approaching footsteps. Felicity jumped from her seat at his hoarse voice calling her name. She was startled at his reveal but didn’t scream or freak out, like everyone else would. Instead she studied him, mouth agape, surely putting the pieces together. His secrets, the island, bullet holes on laptops and black arrows. He begged her to take him to the foundry, barely registering her approval before a well-known darkness took over him.

 

* * *

 

Felicity tried and failed to pull Oliver out of her car. She ran a tired hand over her face, drying off sweat after her third attempt, only to find it covered in blood. He was bleeding out and fast. Desperate at seeing him unconscious, she ran to the club’s back door where a key-pad greeted her. _This_ she could handle. Deftly hacking it she rushed down the stairs to what appeared to be the basement of his club, halting to a stop when a man who she recognized to be Oliver’s bodyguard pointed a gun at her.

“Can you help me, he’s… really heavy” she breathed panting.

With his help they brought Oliver inside and onto the gurney-like table at the center of the room. Her mind was flooding with thoughts and questions, trying to take this in, filling in the gaps Oliver had left in the dozen conversations they had had since he’d been back. It made sense but she wasn’t expecting this. _Guess he had changed more than she imagined_.

The bodyguard, Diggle she remembered he was called, ran through the basement collecting medical supplies after he took off Oliver’s hood and examined his wound. Medicine wasn’t her forte but it looked bad, and Diggle’s rushed pacing and distressed expression did little to soothe her.

She carefully followed his directions, trying her best not to get sick. Though Diggle seemed to know what he was doing, his last statement still made her shiver. ‘ _Oliver’s been through worse’_.

Letting her eyes wander down his chest she could see the proof of that. Countless scars marred his skin, some deeper, other more recent. There were a few tattoos as well, something that troubled her since Oliver hadn’t seem like the type. But then he didn’t seem like the vigilante, jumping off rooftops and arrowing criminals type either. This was just another proof she barely knew this new Oliver; even though much had been revealed in their last encounter.

It took a couple of hours –and quite a few swear words– but Diggle had managed to stop the bleeding and extract the bullet that had been lodged way too close to his carotid. Felicity was amazed she had kept her cool during that time, her hands only shaking slightly at the sight of a barely alive Oliver, green paint still smudged around his closed eyes.

As Diggle finished the stitches and thanked her she nodded numbly. Though he still looked worried, Diggle eased them into a light-hearted conversation, even pulling a smile or two from her. They recounted the many times she had inadvertently helped in their arrow missions, something that disturbed her but made her proud at the same time. Granted, they were making a lot of good work, could even be thought as superheroes of some kind, but where did she fit in this?

She always thought that Oliver’s little jobs for her were a feeble excuse to get to see her, be close so he could make a move, or make it right, as he had declared the other night. Now she knew it was more complicated than that, that she’d been helping a wanted man. Still she couldn’t say she would take it back, it wouldn’t be true. Being associated with crime and deaths didn’t sit right with her; but knowing she had prevented them as well gave her comfort. Vertigo had taken so many lives and now it was gone, because of them.

Diggle patted her on the shoulder, surely having seen the crease of concern on her forehead.

“It’s ok, kid. It took me some time to get into the idea too, even longer to understand it; but he means well.”

With that he walked away to wash off the blood that remained on him and she sat in the quietness of the foundry pondering what had happened that night.

 

* * *

 

He flat-lined once after that, taking her breath away and not in a good way. Even though she didn’t know where she stood with Oliver right now Felicity knew she didn’t want him dead. He’d survived way too much to go like this.

Diggle remained on edge for the rest of the night, pacing around the room, even throwing a few punches at a training dummy near a wrestling mat. He offered her to go home, get cleaned up; silently giving her an out from this. It sounded tempting and it would certainly make her life easier, but she knew this was her place to be.

So instead she occupied herself with Oliver’s poorly set network, updating his software, even adding a few screens she had found upstairs –ones he could surely replace later, when he woke up–. Even in her mind she used _when_ instead of _if_ , because the simple idea of this being it for him made her stomach turn.

Her heart stopped when the shrilling beep of his heart monitor broke the silence again, both her and Diggle rushing to his side. Thankfully it had been a false alarm and he was well, or as well as he could be.

She let her fingers feel the stitches and wounded flesh around them, her bright colored fingertips a stark contrast of this darkness he was living with. Letting her eyes wander around the lair she spotted his bow next to a set of arrows. She went for it and held it in her hands, testing the weight and noticing how massive and out of place it looked on her; with Oliver’s height and build it surely was a perfect fit. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she remembered the time he had brought her the black arrow and she had said how ridiculous she found archery. Oliver hadn’t seemed mad; actually she could remember him chuckling at her comment.

The smile soon faded and she put the bow down, recalling the many deaths attributed to it. Diggle noticed the change in her and told her his side of the story, the one that made being a part of this crusade bearable, right. It seemed nothing escaped him and he did have some valid points; there were casualties, Walter being a potential one.

Still as she studied Oliver laying there a fire burned through her at the thought that he had killed someone, multiple someones if she believed the press. She wondered when and why it started, definitely on the island, since the boy he had met before could barely see a paper cut… or was he even a better liar she gave him credit for? Felicity stored that question for later, along with the many others that had flooded her mind since the reveal of his secret identity.

First he needed to be safe, conscious, a steady heart beating against his new scar. She allowed herself to run a hand through his hair, knowing she wouldn’t dare when he awoke, and carefully cleaned up the remaining paint on his face. Under the dim light of the basement he looked pale, fragile, nothing like the man she had grown accustomed to these past few months.

In that moment she knew that even through her pain over their past failed relationship and this new deadly side of him she was still not over him. Oliver Queen was trouble, even more than before, but she couldn’t stay away, didn’t want to albeit she probably should.

 

* * *

 

It took a few more hours before he came to, cracking up a joke much to her and Diggle’s surprise. Felicity smiled brightly at him, allowing herself to breathe deeply for the first time since she had seen him bleeding in her car.

He winced as he sat up and she took a hesitant step forward, worried he might tear up his stitches. She stole a glance at Diggle and at his firm nod or approval she relaxed. Oliver looked at Dig’s handy work on his shoulder, cringing at how gnarly it looked and the tricky spot the bullet had lodged. His mother sure was a good shot.

“It’s not bad” he said with a heavy sigh. “So how am I gonna explain this one?” Another lie he would have to utter to his loved ones.

“Hickey gone wrong?” his trusty bodyguard quipped with a smile in place. Oliver simply gave him a frowning look, noticing Felicity’s flushed cheeks at the comment. More than a few heated memories came to mind but he quickly buried them in a corner of his mind at the risk of embarrassing them any further.

Her mind seemed to be in the same place as she darted to the computers, now plural, and tapped away while telling them what she was doing. Oliver treaded to her, studying the changes she had made to his system. How long had he been asleep?

She spun around in the large chair, a proud smile on her face at what she had accomplished. He returned the smile while looking for any trace of fear in her, but she didn’t seem to be aiming for the exit and, by the looks of it, she had stayed with them all night.

So he dared to ask if she would stay for good, hesitant, not demanding even though he wanted her to take the offer so badly, but knew it was only fair to give her an out. This is not how he had planned on bringing her into the team; he thought he could ease her into it, disclosing his identity beforehand, giving her time to process it all instead of throwing his life in her hands. Yet there she was, though not taking his offer all together, agreeing to work with them for now, for Walter.

It wasn’t lost to him the edge in her voice as she said she knew about his notebook, identical to the one she had given him not that long ago. He looked at Diggle who shrugged, recounting how he had told him to tell her the truth all together or let her be. Now she knew half of it he could be more honest with her, no more made up excuses to pay her a visit or get her help.

“That’s my offer”, Felicity stated, blue eyes boring through his.

“Ok” he responded, saving everything else he wanted to tell her for later. Unlike the ok they had shared that night by the window this one held hope of a partnership, or a future, though not definite it was still something, better than the uncertainty the last one implied.

“Thank you” he said, gratitude clear in his voice.

She nodded slightly and held his gaze for a few seconds before looking down at her fidgeting hands, a habit she turned to when nervous. Oliver let his eyes travel down her neck to her outfit and reached for her before he could stop himself.

He frowned as his fingers lightly traced the blood still on her skin, barely atop the edge of her sweeter, which was also covered in crimson red.

“It’s yours” she breathed, trying to soothe him.

“I know. I–I’m sorry I brought you into this. I didn’t mean to–” he trailed off knowing it was half a lie. He wanted to bring her in; he didn’t mean to hurt her.

“What? You didn’t think I would’ve eventually found out? Hate to break it to you, Oliver, but your excuses aren’t that great.”

He huffed at that, remembering an awful one he had crafted to cover up a vertigo sample he needed analyzed. Getting serious he looked at her face again. “I know this is a lot”.

“It is” she agreed, “but it’ll sink in soon enough.” With one final smile she walked away, his hand dropping to his side.

Before she was out the door she turned around and called at him. “I’m glad you are safe” a knowing smile and then she was gone.

He watched her go, her words resonating in his head. Those were the same ones she had uttered months before when he came back, still this time they sounded much better; heartfelt instead of a simple pleasantry.

“Are we gonna talk about _this_?” Diggle’s deep voice called from behind him, wordlessly talking about Felicity and whatever was going on between them.

“Not now, John. I need to be with my family”.

Still he didn’t drop it, needing to make him see the danger they were putting Felicity in and then tackling the even bigger elephant in the room: Moira. Even though he had almost died due to her, Oliver was still defending his mother fiercely, clawing at any excuse and threat he could think of to make him stand down. When he had made his point clear he got changed and excused himself.

Diggle saw Oliver go as well, shaking his head at his best friend’s stubbornness. This could be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!  
> This is the first story I've ever written over 10K words! I'm really happy I've made it since I used to have the habit of abandoning stories because I didn't think the plot through. I'm still not sure how much longer this story will be, but know there's still at least three more chapters lined up after this one.  
> But since I’m starting a new semester at college tomorrow I probably won’t be updating as often. That being said I usually comment about the progress of this story or whatever I’m writing at my tumblr, sometimes sharing a little snippet of it, so follow me there if you like (link is in my profile)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left comments! Please know I read and cherish them all :)


	7. If I'm Honest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Oliver don't exactly see eye to eye when it comes to dealing with the list. The Dodger comes into the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I’m so sorry It’s taken me forever to update! Classes have kept me crazy busy and I’ve also been dealing with a terrible case of writers block. I truly hate to leave you hanging for long, and will do my best for this not to happen again. In reward I’ve made this chapter extra long, joining what would be two separate ones. What is more, I’ve already started working on the next chapter which, I promise, will be better than this one, which I’m still not super proud of.  
> Anyways, have a good read!

_I've been finding all kinds_

_Of useless ways just to push it all down_

_Like spinning around, spinning around_

_'Til I fall onto the ground.._

_And I painted over all the cracks_

_But now the paint is peeling back_

 

 

It was a long night. Restless sleep and a crowded mind. He wanted to go to her, explain, lay it all out on the table. Felicity wouldn’t turn him in, that he was sure of, but maybe overnight, having time to think it through, she would back away, from the vigilante, and from him.

Slowly, step by step he had closed the vast distance between them and now there was a bump on the road, one he wasn’t exactly sure she would be willing to cross. If she wanted he would let her go; but he wished she stayed.

So he fought the urge to ride to her place, sneak through the window and convince her to stay, instead trusting she would show up the next day.

He practically skipped down the steps at twilight, preparing himself for the worse. And yet there she was. Bright pink sweater on and her trademark high ponytail, eyes fixed on her computers –they were hers now, that was sure–. He made sure to make some noise, not to startle her, and gave her a warm smile when their eyes met.

She smiled back then turned back around to the computers and worked away, searching for anything that could lead to Walter while tracking the names on Oliver’s list. He respected her space and silence and chose to work out the tension that had kept him up at night. A few times he caught her wandering eyes on him, especially after his shirt had been cast aside, but didn’t say anything afraid of reading too much into it.

Dig had shown up not too long after that, giving Felicity a grateful nod for her presence before joining Oliver for a sparring session.

It was a few hours later when they finally broke away and Dig hit the showers. Olive stayed behind, she could tell even without turning around to check. It was uncanny how aware her body was of his, as if she could sense his gaze on her, feel his warmth from a few feet away.

“Ken Williams. What do you have on him?”She refrained herself from jumping from her seat as his gravelly voice came even closer that she expected.

“Proof he’s worthy of your notebook, apparently. His bogus corporation stole millions just in the last few years. Also I’ve got his location; he’s at his main office.”

“Great” he said almost excited while beginning to change into his vigilante suit.

“So, Oliver…” she threw in clearing her throat. “How do you typically board this type of situations? You know, evil guy to cross of your list.”

At his silence she turned around and met his raised eyebrow. Her eyes lowered to the bow already clutched in his hand.

“I mean, if it’s about the money I could easily transfer the stolen funds from here without the need for arrows or getting hurt.”

“I’m going to be fine, Felicity. I don’t usually get shot”, he hesitated. “Last night was an exception.”

“Yes, I know; your mother. Talk about a Shakespearean drama”, she trailed off for a moment then met his inquisitive gaze again. “I actually meant Williams.” His brow furrowed and she rushed to explain. “He’s got a ten-year old son; a boy who has already lost his mother.”

“Felicity, these people on the list, they’re dangerous. You can’t get personal.”

“Well I can’t just sit idly by while you orphan kids for the sake of justice either” she countered, her voice several decibels higher.

Oliver took a step back feeling like he had been slapped. _What image did she have of him?_

“There are casualties in this war, you said it yourself”, his body coiled with tension. Having her around had kept him wound up all day and every bit of tension he had worn off working out came back with what she implied.

“Yes, but they are not coming from me.” Her eyes bore into his, anger and determination matching his own. “Besides, I doubt he had anything to do with this undertaking thing or with Walter. He’s a thief, granted a scumbag, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die.”

“And you think I would take him out just because? Because I’m a murderer?” he voiced what was hanging between them.

His questions hanged in the air as she simply looked at him.

“I think I made a mistake, signing up with you.”

Picking her stuff in a hurry she rushed to the door, passing a confused looking Diggle by the stairs. The door slammed shut behind her as Oliver closed his eyes in defeat laying the bow down on the table.

Diggle smiled knowingly. “I like her.”

Oliver shot him a warning look, to which he just shrugged. “Hey, you wanted me to like her, didn’t you?”

Diggle approached him with heavy steps, taking in his partner’s behaviour. He had been on edge since the shooting.

“I see what you’re doing, Oliver.”

He turned around, his back to Diggle, shoulders now slumped crushed by the pressure of his constant fight to keep it together.

“You’re trying to push her away, yet you want her around. I already gave you my piece of mind, what’s safer for her, for you. Still she has accomplished more in a few hours that you have in weeks”, he admitted while signaling to the computers.

Multiple searches ran simultaneously; every piece of intel they had on the undertaking together with cross-searches of targets from his list. A police frequency ran in another screen, alerting and deleting any evidence of the vigilante they stumbled upon. Oliver smiled at the sight.

“She’s good, one of the best I’ve seen.” Diggle’s voice broke the silence again. “And she’s got guts. Not everybody stands up against you.”

“What’s your point, John? If she wants out I should let her be.”

“Cut the crap, Oliver. She didn’t’ walk away; you ran her out.” They stared down at each other. “You have to make up your mind. Will you let her in or drive her away? You can’t do both.”

Oliver let out a deep breath and lowered his head. Diggle walked past him and, with a pat in the back, left him alone again in the emptiness of the lair.

 

* * *

 

The next day a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates greeted Felicity at her desk in QC, a small card propped against it that simply read _'I’m sorry'_.

There was no sign of him around but the distinct scent of his aftershave remained, so she knew he had delivered it himself. She smiled at the gesture though still not sure what to think of him.

The Oliver she knew back then was there, small signals like this one telling her that much, that he still remembered even the little things she had shared before he had gone away. Yet he seemed to be buried inside this shell, cold and distant, his moves carefully delivered. It made sense this Oliver being the vigilante; it pained her to imagine what he must have gone through in the island to make him like this.

Still that’s not what had scared her off the night before. It was the intensity and seriousness she had seen in his eyes when suiting up. It reminded her much more of a soldier than to the Oliver she knew.

She wasn’t scared of him but overwhelmed by who he was now.

* * *

She wouldn’t be there. Oliver spent the whole night convincing himself of it.

Yet there she was. He felt scared, relieved, disappointed and grateful at the same time.

At twilight Oliver felt the familiar sound of the keypad and turned around meeting her blue eyes.

Felicity hesitated on top of the stairs for a moment, as if making up her mind, and then one step led to another until she met him under the light at the centre of the room. Silence overtook the room as he studied her, not sure where to begin. There was much he wanted to explain but words tended to fail him, especially when he was high on adrenaline.

“Hi” she muttered **.**

“Hi” he countered, hesitating on whether to send her away before she got hurt; either from a case or from him, she wasn’t really safe there.

“I’m sorry” he offered then, “I wasn’t thinking clearly yesterday. I know _this_ is still new to you” eying his quiver on the table. Her eyes followed his and stayed on it, his new identity.

“Well _this_ explains a lot. I knew something was going on with you, something had changed… just didn’t expect this to be it.”

“Trust me, when I left I didn’t expect it either.”

This was it, letting her in or driving her away. “If there is anything you want to know, just ask. I’ll try my best to tell the truth”, he let out making up his mind.

“Ken Williams?” her voice was a soft whisper, as if afraid of what his answer could be.

“He returned the money that he stole just in time to put his son to bed” his answer came calm and composed, unlike his defensive demeanor the night before. “Just a warning.”

Felicity nodded and then hesitated, pondering what to voice next; the amount of questions she had for him were endless, her mind running wild as usual.

“How are you holding up?” the words left her lips after a short pause.

He looked startled, surely expecting ‘ _why?_ ’ to be her main doubt; why was he this damaged man, why was he a cold-blooded killer. “It’s just you were gone for a long time, Oliver. And ever since you came back it seemed like you were holding back, almost bearing it all too well. And now… now I see this other side of you, how much the island has changed you. It must have been hard coming back and pretending to be the same.”

Oliver simply stared at her speechless; the easiness with which she read him was terrifying, but the fact the first thing that crossed her mind upon learning he was a wanted vigilante was his safety shocked him even more. Felicity was beginning to regret her question when the corners of his lips rose ever so slightly.

“It’s been tough, lying to everybody I care about; even harder than I thought. Everything seems almost the same yet not right anymore.”

“ _You’ve_ changed; your perspective. Not to take it as an insult, but you’ve grown up significantly. Everything seems different from where you’re at now.”

“It does.” He looked down and she saw his brow furrow. “Thea’s a teenager now.”

“I know. I’ve seen her around the office sometimes” she smiled in return, Oliver’s adoration for his little sister being one of her favorite traits of his. “I think Tommy’s the same, though” she added, recounting their short run-in the other day at the mansion.

Oliver chuckled lightly at that, a sight that made her smile widen.

“Yeah, I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad though.” Worry clouded his features again as another thought entered his mind. “Did you know he hang out with Thea? They seem to be friends”, he’d noticed furtive glances exchanged between them whenever they thought he wasn’t paying attention.

“Not really. I haven’t seen much of Tommy though. I think we’ve actually met only once before…” her voice lowered, a somber tone replacing her usual chipper one, “… at your funeral.”

Their eyes met and he could see the pain behind the deep blue of her iris.

“I could tell he knew who I was. You told him about us, didn’t you?” Her tone wasn’t reprimanding but curious.

“He’s my best friend” he answered. “If it mattered he knew about it.”

“And we did, for you…” her voice barely a whisper, as if trying to convince herself of it.

Oliver nodded and hesitantly took a step forward reaching out before stopping himself. “Felicity…”

An alert came up on her screen, breaking the tension. “I know; it’s complicated. And right now is not the time” she continued, already walking to her desk.

Oliver closed his eyes and took a moment before turning into arrow mode.

They would have to deal with this, whatever it was going on between then, sooner rather than later. She just had to stop running away from it.

 

* * *

 

Not a week had passed since Felicity had joined them when his deepest fear came true.

“Talk to me, Felicity”, came Oliver’s voice from the comm.

Her voice shook slightly as well as her hands over the tablet while she told him where the Dodger was. Diggle stood by her side, eyes carefully examining the bomb collar clung around her neck.

Oliver’s hands clenched the handlebars of his bike in anger as he sped through the streets of Starling, the Dodger’s car coming to view. She was getting out alive of this one. There was no other possible outcome in his mind. Too many had died on his account; she didn’t deserve this, even if taking this case had been her idea all along.

He shouldn’t have let her get this close; should have sent her home when she turned up at the auction; should have… He stored the blame game for later when the car came to a halt, his arrow having slashed its back wheel.

As ruthless as this guy was Oliver had dealt with worse and now, with a team by his side, the threat was promptly terminated. A breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding left him as Felicity’s collar beeped open.

“Felicity?”

“I’m okay” she breathed. “It’s off.”

* * *

Diggle drove her home after that, scurrying away before the police got wind of what had gone down and raided the place. Instead they would find the Dodger, arrowed hand and all, hauled up in an alley a few blocks away.

Felicity paced around her living room, a cup of chamomile tea untouched on her hand. On the way back Diggle had eased them into a light-hearted talk about his date with Carly, trying to keep her mind off of what had went on that night. She smiled warmly at the memory; having grown quite fond of him even though she was just begging to peel back the layers of who Oliver’s trusty partner was.

_She could have died today._

That thought hadn’t sink in yet. Barely a few months ago she was just an IT girl, her life was normal. And then Oliver Queen had waltzed back into her life throwing her into a whirlwind of emotions she wasn’t ready for.

She could have died today, but she couldn’t say she would take it back.

Having gotten a taste of what they did, the difference that they could make, erasing people like this vicious murderer from the streets, she saw the light in the darkness that the idea of the vigilante painted in her mind.

Her phone chimed jolting her from her thoughts.

‘You home?’ it read under Oliver’s name.

She sent a simple ‘yes’ and in a beat his answer came back.

‘Can I come up for a moment?’

She thought it over for a second before making up her mind. _Do you want to see him? Yes_.

His knock came barely a minute after she had replied. Setting the mug aside she tiptoed to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole before opening it.

“You shouldn’t do that. It’s not safe” he said as a greeting.

“Hello to you too” she chirped back, a faint smile appearing in both or their faces.

She stepped aside, Oliver taking the cue and coming inside, eyes scanning her place. Though it had far more furniture than before, the same Felicity-feel remained in the room; bright colors and edgy designs contrasting with a homely vibe. He could see her personality bubbly and light, quirky and interesting.

Felicity came before him offering a warm cup of tea and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He took it and watched as she tightened the sweater that looked two sizes too big for her, her gold sequined dress from earlier peeking underneath it.

She watched him think silently, how blue eyes travelled up her body, stopping at her neck for a while before meeting her own. Still, unlike many other times in that same place, they weren’t dark with desire, eying her appreciatively; they were looking for any signs of harm. Another change this new Oliver displayed: deep and constant concern for other people’s well-being.

“I’m okay” she offered at his inquisitive gaze.

“But you could have been hurt”

There it was; the weight he constantly dragged on; a guilty conscious, the one that still replayed Laurel’s death. She didn’t want to be one of those burdens he carried over his shoulder, making him heavy and spent.

“It’s not your fault”

He scoffed humorlessly but met with her steely resolve decided not to comment on it. She was good, even better than he deserved.

“Still, I didn’t mean to put you in harm’s way. I’m sorry.”

“Well I didn’t exactly handle it in the best way either. I should have gone to you first, or to Dig.”

“What you did was brave… not your smartest moment maybe” he added lightly, getting an amused look from her, “but brave.”

“Yeah” she conceded as they shared a smile. “I should learn how to defend myself though, in case I need it again. Maybe Dig can teach me a thing or two, though doing an arm choke surely wouldn’t be as effective for me with my arms…” she trailed off thinking of how gigantic Diggle’s biceps looked, even with a suit on.

Oliver mind went to an opposite pole, thinking of her in danger, again. A knot formed in his stomach at the thought.

“Felicity.” His serious tone drew her back to reality. “I need you to know you have a choice. I want you working with us, have from the start. But I can’t ask you for this.” She fell into silence at his worried demeanor, studying the pain in his eyes. “So know that you can walk away whenever you want” he concluded meeting her eye.

A beat passed as she contemplated the play of light in his face, a sullen mood taking over him. As tempting as an out would be for a sane person she was far beyond that point. She had crossed a line agreeing to work with him and, though still learning how to navigate it without giving up her morals, it felt right.

“You didn’t kill him” her breathy response again took him by surprise. “The Dodger. You could’ve easily put an arrow in him, but you chose not to.” Blue eyes were boring through his again. “You are a good man, Oliver. Despite the outfit and the menacing tone, you’re not one of them, the people on the list. I know that much.”

Taking a hesitant step forward she laid a soft hand on his forearm. “I’m not saying I won’t have doubts or difference of opinions sometimes…but I’m in”, she added, a reassuring smile on her face.

A half smile spread across his face in return.

Her hand lingered on him for a beat longer, fingers lightly caressing his suit before she looked away, afraid of getting caught up in the moment, in him; it was way too easy and far too good, she knew that much.

Oliver cleared his throat, his thoughts not far from hers. This wasn’t the time to act on it, but soon he would, if she let him.

“I should let you rest.” He said, though not with much conviction.

“Yeah” she conceded, and walked him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow” she offered with a warm smile, one he couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Tomorrow.”

That word carried hope of something more, of being in each other’s lives, of sharing secrets and chasing after each other’s ghosts. As Felicity leaned against the closed door she wondered what she had gotten herself into, thrilled yet terrified to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!! If you wanna make my day leave a word or two with your thoughts or comments. Until next time.


	8. Unapologize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team arrow finds a new normal, then maybe loses it all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So I’m really excited to post this ‘cause this is the most effortless chapter I’ve written so far and it also turned out to be my favorite. I really hope you guys like it and would love to hear your opinions and predictions!  
> Also, from this point forward quite some things will probably change from cannon, as though I’m generally going episode by episode and writing something related to it, the ones that follow are sort of related to Mckenna –who the Oliver of this story didn’t date– and then to Laurel, who is only spoken for in the past.  
> Anyway, I leave you to read. Again, thank you for the ongoing support to me and to this story. It truly means a lot :)  
> \------  
>  **EDIT: Please read the end notes, it's really important!**

_There’s no time to be_

_Holding it all and trying to pretend_

_That I don't feel anything_

 

 

They found a comfortable rhythm with time.

After the whole Dodger incident and Oliver’s and Felicity’s initial fight they reached a new normal. Oliver still patrolled or hunted targets every night, with Diggle standing as back-up and Felicity being his guide through the comm. Her soothing voice gave him comfort and talked him down quite a few times when his temper and deadly instinct took over.

Sometimes he ended up taking a kill shot, when he saw it fitting, and was met with her disapproving glare when he came back to the foundry. He stopped apologizing for it, instead tried to get better at controlling his impulses, hanging onto the hope she had that he was worth saving.

Oliver had long ago come to terms with the fact he was a killer, when it was necessary. Hardship in the island had taught him to deal with evil that way, that being the only possible way out. Then along came Felicity, willing to convince him to take another road, believing there was more to him than simply killing and far more good to be done as the vigilante than stacking casualties in the silent war going on.

Felicity had changed as well.

They’d all agreed it would be best for her to have some tools to defend herself, lest she found herself in a threatening situation again. An unspoken agreement led to Diggle being the one to give her self-defense lessons; something both Felicity and Oliver were more than grateful for. Neither was ready for being that close, afraid of the consequences. Diggle simply hoped they would deal with it already so the underlying tension in the room would fade away.

He and Felicity had gotten quite close over time.

Oliver had plenty to deal with family-wise after being gone for so long, his relationship with his sister especially needing patching-up. Diggle and Felicity on the other hand had a simpler personal life. Neither had many friends or family and, as unlike as they’d appear at plain view, had plenty in common.

So sparring as part of her training evolved into sharing Chinese take-out at nights while she ran searches, which prompted to them sharing stories about how they got there.

He told her how he met Oliver –‘ _He was full of bull-shit and I wasn’t having any of it’_ , he’d shared– and the way he’d found out about his secret identity. She in turn offered, though devoid of details, when she’d first encountered their mutual friend – _‘He was full of shit too, but didn’t try to hide it then’_ she’d revealed–.

It was funny how their stories converged: Diggle finding out Oliver’s secret saved his life; in turn Felicity’s discovery led to saving Oliver’s life.

Through Diggle’s eyes she could understand slightly better where Oliver was coming from, having gone through a battle of his own in the island, though that part of him neither knew much of. He was damaged, that was known, but how he’d gotten that way, from the man she’d once known, was still a mystery. And if there was something Felicity Smoak couldn’t stand were unsolved ones.

Yet she knew he needed to be the first one to take that step. As much as she wanted to know, the pain that thinking about that time brought him was all too clear. She just hoped he would trust her enough to share that side of him as well sometime.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t easy juggling all the moving parts of his life right now, especially while trying to keep some of them hidden. Trying to be the man he was for his family was turning out to be harder than he thought; even after months of being back Oliver hadn’t found the perfect balance. More often than not Thea was angry at him, and his distant relationship with Moira only worsened as he still suspected of her being involved with what was terrorizing the city.

The only one that seemed truly pleased with having Oliver back, changed and all, was Tommy.

His best friend opened his arms to him without hesitation as they met for his birthday at their favorite restaurant. Though Tommy wasn’t blind as far as his new personality was concerned, he accepted it without reservations. Granted, there were quite a few jokes thrown regarding how serious and chaste Oliver had gotten, hardly ever going out at nights anymore –at least in the way Tommy expected him to–; yet he never complained or accused him of being distant, instead giving him his space.

Having settled into their table their conversation turned from his complicated relationship with Felicity –which Oliver promptly deviated from much to Tommy’s dislike– to their fathers. His best friend shared the on-going battle to maintain a somewhat decent relationship with Malcolm, to which Oliver offered his take on the matter, though vague sharing about his relationship with his own father. It hurt and brought unwanted memories back, but giving Tommy a shoulder to lean on held as much meaning for him as it did for Oliver.

“I’m really happy that you’re back” had been his honest words, the ones that made him the happiest he’d been in a while.

More than ever Oliver was thankful for Tommy’s presence in his life. He even took up the lead in Oliver’s project in the Glades.

“Everything’s almost ready for the opening next week. Vendors are on board and the crowd is already buzzing about it. Thea sure was helpful, you should thank her.”

“Speedy?”

“Oh, she hates that nickname!” Tommy laughed at the innocent tone his best friend always used to address her. “She’s grown up a lot, you know.”

“I’ve noticed. Apparently she knows about clubs now.”

“Yeah, but can you blame her? We were way worse at that age, and without the abysmal baggage she’s had on her plate.” At Oliver’s guilty expression he turned serious. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to–”.

“It’s okay, Tommy” he reassured. “I actually wanted to thank you, for looking over her. I’ve seen you have gotten close. You were there for her when I couldn’t be. There’s no way for me to thank you enough.”

“No thank needed, man.” Tommy’s words were heartfelt, still there an apologetic look on his face that Oliver didn’t miss.

“What?”

“Oh, you’re not gonna like this.”

 

* * *

 

“They dated!” Oliver shouted from behind the bar. “He dated my sister!”

That’s how Felicity had found him upon entering the foundry. He was pacing back and forth moving things around aimlessly and mumbling incoherently, visibly upset.

 _‘Who?’_ she’d asked, to what a strained _‘Tommy’_ had left his lips. _‘Oh’_ had been her simple response, as it sunk it. Five minutes later and he was still repeating the words, trying to make sense of them.

“Ok, it isn’t that bad.” At Oliver’s confused expression she clarified. “Well, they could _still_ be dating.”

“Not helping, Felicity.”

“Sorry.”

Felicity paced at the other side of the bar. The main floor of the foundry was still in preparation for the opening, a slew of boxes scattered on the side and only a few lights shone where they stood.

“So what exactly did he say?”

“That they’d gotten close after I… went away. It was part of their grieving process apparently, leaning on each other. He said it only grew to something more when she got back from boarding school this year; as if that made it better.”

“Well, she was legal then…” she argued and was met with another scowl. “Look, Oliver, I know this is not ideal for you, but it isn’t that bad. I mean, who do you trust the most, especially with Thea?” She paused waiting for him to object as he’d been doing so far; when he didn’t she went on. “You said it yourself; you were thankful he had her back all this time, that he was there for her.”

“I did. I do… just not like _that_.”

She breathed in deeply; he wasn’t the easiest person to argue with. She understood though, she was every bit as stubborn as he was.

“A lot happened to them in five years, as it did to all of us.” She caught his eye, urging him to understand the meaning behind those words. He tensed just at the memories they evoked; the five years he’d been away flashing before his eyes. “And just as we respect you not wanting to talk about them, you shouldn’t bite his head off for sharing his.”

He mulled over her words; he wasn’t being fair but he didn’t see straight when it came to Thea, he never could.

“Thea’s grown up; Tommy has too apparently if he had a relationship, even if it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah. He said it got too hard; that with time they realized they were better off as friends. They both had things to figure out, different ways of dealing with the pain.” Oliver’s voice trailed off remembering Tommy’s honesty.

“See? It’s in the past, and they seem to be okay now, as you’ve told me before. Besides, you jumping at Thea’s neck over this won’t help with your relationship right now”, she added, after having seen Oliver’s frustration over his failed attempts in reaching out to his sister.

“Yes, she’s not little Speedy anymore… A lot has changed here in these years.” His voice was even now and he’d stopped pacing as she’d calmed him down. Though she was still figuring out how to get through to him, Felicity smiled at this small victory.

“It sure has. Look at you. I swear now that I know about your night persona I can barely recognize that guy from the bar.”

He smiled at the memory, this one being more welcomed than the island ones.

“Seems like a lifetime ago” he admitted meeting her eye again.

“Yeah. Can’t say I miss the hair though.”

“What?” He sounded slightly surprised but joined in her laughter.

“You had to admit, it wasn’t your best look. And what about all those skinny scarves you used to wear?”

“Hey, you didn’t seem to mind back then.” He pitched in between laughs. Her breathing slowed down as their eyes locked and she realized they were boarding their past relationship for the first time in a while.

“I really didn’t.”

Oliver studied her across the room as a pregnant pause fell over the room, his anger at his best friend forgotten.

“You know this isn’t that much of a different setup to where we met.” He begun circling the bar, her eyes glued to his every move, just like they’d been back then. “You standing there, minus the drinks this time. I walked up to you across the room.” And so he did, until they were only a few feet apart.

“You did. Then you leaned into my ear and whispered the most clichéd line ever.”

“Well, again, it worked.” He smiled at her, not the fake-Oliver-Queen smile, but the honest one that actually reached his eyes; _her_ smile.

“Yeah; but like I said, a lot has changed.” She offered, trying and failing to lighten the situation. She was in an Oliver-induced haze and there was nothing to break her away from his gaze. Memories of that night were more than welcomed; what had led her to fall for those lines was not.

His smile didn’t waiver though, seeing she hadn’t pushed him away and was still holding his gaze.

“I remember seeing you from afar, what draw me to you.” She watched him quietly as he went on. “You were beautiful, that was obvious even though I wasn’t completely sober. But it was the frown in your face, the exasperated sight you took looking around. You were in the best nightclub there was, gorgeous and being ogled by almost every man around… and you looked _bored_.” He chuckled remembering so clearly what seemed so far away.

“And _that’s_ what sold it to you? Gee, you had weird taste, Queen.” She smiled back, amused at his train of thought as well as glad to see Oliver being this carefree for the first time.

“Oliver” came his gravelly voice, deeper than before, blue eyes boring into hers.

Her lips parted at the sound, the intensity in his gaze almost too much to handle, hypnotizing and alluring. Then a breath, a pause and the distance was gone.

She didn’t know if he closed the space between them or she leaned in as well, meeting him halfway. All she felt was Oliver, warm lips brushing over hers, a hand holding her face in place, his husky smell taking over her senses. A beat passed, then two before she found herself coming alive, capturing his top lip in hers and giving in, letting go of whatever held her back from him, from this moment, from this kiss.

As another hand took hold of her waist, pressing her further against his chest, his lips worked over hers, tugging, teasing and caressing, before his tongue lightly traced her lips asking for permission –as if he needed it at this point–. Felicity's hand snaked around his neck, angling his face for better access while he devoured her mouth. She felt more that heard the groan he let out at the contact, the feel of him overwhelming.

It felt like a fire had been ignited. His touch burnt her skin, even through the clothing, and an indescribable warmth seeped in her at being with him like this again. His lips glided over hers with an easiness that was uncanny given their history, how long it had been since they’d done this, how much had happened.

As it used to be, they moved in sync, almost anticipating each other’s moves; reaching, touching, tasting, only pulling away slightly for air, only to dive back in without hesitation. His fingers brushed her cheek with a tenderness that would’ve scared her had she been thinking straight. _Who was she kidding?_ Right then she wasn’t thinking at all.

She was feeling, melting in his arms, holding onto him as an uncontrollable heat washed over them. There was a sense of relief, of calm in the way he held her; almost not believing it was actually happening. He had dreamt of this time and again, longing to reach for her, feel all of her one more time.

Their pace slowed as their hearts pounded furiously and their lungs complained of lack of breath. She panted when they pulled apart, his lips meeting hers once, twice before parting reluctantly. His blue eyes fluttered open first, searching her face for any sign of her thoughts but only found the hunger that surely was reflected in his own.

She took a deep breath, willing her thoughts to unscramble from the mind-blowing kiss that had made her undone. Eyelashes rose and when she finally dared to meet his eyes he took her breath away again. Blue eyes shone with an intensity that put the one before the kiss to shame. His name died at her lips, still parted like his, swollen in the best shade of red he had ever seen.

She disentangled her hand from his hair, where she’d just been pulling from seconds ago, then leaned back in an attempt to clear her mind. He could see now as a crease appeared in her forehead that she was thinking this through.

“Felicity…” His lips caressed her name, a sigh and a whimper at the same time; half complaint for pulling away, half bracing himself for what was to come.

“No” she breathed through trembled lips taking another step backwards, the distance between them sending pain straight through him. It had felt so right, so perfect having her in his arms again.

She shook her head, eyes glued to the floor as her mind spun coming out of the haze. “No. I can’t do this, not again.”

A hand reached out for her, trying to steady her somehow, calming her down. Yet she flinched away, eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment, barely enough for him to see the panic swirling in them. It took a few steps before she turned around, holding onto the edge of the bar for balance.

“Felicity. Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Desperation tainted his words as a nervous hand ran over his head. She could feel him worrying even having her back to him, biting on her lower lip, still tasting him.

He started pacing, reaching for her before second-guessing himself and pulling away to process what had just happened. It had been perfect, intoxicating and addictive, even better than he remembered; because just like she had said, they weren’t the same. This Oliver knew heartache and loss, unspeakable pain and anguish; thinking he’d never feel something quite like that again. And then, yet again, she had proven him wrong. Maybe the timing wasn’t perfect, it never would probably, but he did know one thing: he didn’t regret it in the very least.

Even if she left now, never to share something like this with him again –something so painful he didn’t even want to imagine–, they’d have this moment, those minutes of pure heaven in which she had let him in and they’d felt that fire that had drawn them together time and again; five years ago and in the few months they’d shared since his return.

“You know what, that’s a lie.”

Felicity turned around to face him, taken aback by his conviction, a clear contrast to the hesitance and fear in his voice before. He didn’t sound like the in-control Oliver she was getting used to, the one that masked his feelings for everyone’s sakes.

With their eyes locked now the words left his lips with a strength and honesty he hadn’t uttered in a while.

“I meant it. I have wanted to do that for years. I won’t take back the way I feel about you.”

Breath caught in her throat as he began walking to her, slowly closing the distance once again, blue eyes pouring into hers.

“I’ve spent so much time fighting to survive, to be the kind of man my parents wanted me to be, the one… Laurel expected of me. And I’m tired. I don’t want to fight back anymore, not what I feel about you. I can’t pretend I don’t feel anything for you, because you’re undeniable.”

Everything he’d been keeping bottled up since they had met again burst open, pouring his heart out. In many ways those voiced thoughts were deeper that simply uttering _the_ three little words; although he was longing to voice them for quite some time now, he held them down, knowing _that_ for sure would send her running. Instead he watched patiently as his words sunk in, blue eyes ghosting over his face for answers and finding nothing but seriousness.

“Oliver” she breathed, failing to find a viable answer. Her mind was in crumbles.

She wanted to believe him, to let herself go and take a chance on him. But there was something holding her back, name it pride or fear of getting hurt again. Truth, the Oliver that stood before her bearing his heart wasn’t the same boy that left five years ago; but how could she know he wouldn’t back down on his word like he had done before; like he had done to Laurel, who he had vowed to marry?

“I’m not ready” she uttered, pain lacing her words.

Oliver stood paralyzed in his spot, battling whether to fight for her or let her be.

A deafening silence engulfed them then as her eyes found his again. “I can’t” she mumbled again, letting out a shaky breath.

She took a step, then another, and before long she was rushing through the front doors, his eyes lost on where she’d stood before him. He let her go, knowing he’d pushed enough for today, maybe too much, but not really regretting it either.

They’d had come a long way from that first night that seemed like a lifetime ago, yet standing alone in the coldness of the foundry Oliver realized they still had quite a path to go through. He only wished that she would be willing to go through it with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! So, what did you think of the kiss? Would love to read your comments and reactions.  
> \------  
>  **EDIT:** So it's been brought up to me, though not in the best of ways, that some people may be upset about this Tommy and Thea relationship. So I see it fitting to clarify a few things:
> 
> -In this universe, in which I've been changing canon quite a lot, **they are not and will never be siblings**. I didn't think it was necessary to state it beforehand since I'm following the plot of the first season so far, for which I ask the readers to suspend their beliefs of what happens in season two, since it doesn't affect this story in the very least. This story is a different take on the events of the first season and I've explored, though only in the past tense, the conexion and special bond that Thea and Tommy displayed in said season. In no way am I promoting incest!
> 
> -I get some of you may not like this relationship and it's ok, just as some people dislike olicity or other ships. I didn't mean to offend anyone writing this, and surely didn't think it would be such a big deal. I won't be exploring their romantic relationship any further, not because of this particular review but because it was never the plan. I wanted to plant the seed on their relationship, which is far beyond acquantances but no longer will be as a couple.
> 
> -Finally, all I ask is that _when you express your opinions you do so in a polite manner_. Please don't be intentionally hurtful and, though I appreciate your honesty, I think there are better ways of expressing one's dislike for a certain plot that attacking the writer or its morals. It goes beyond just me: we do this for fun, because we love a show, film, etc and writing, exploring the possibilites. The fact we share it with others here is putting us in a vulnerable place but also one in which you get to share it with others; and the back and forth is quite interesting and enrichening. So please, if you disagree with something, don't think a character would act that way or something similar, feel free to share it with me, I would love to talk it out. As I always say at the end of every piece I write: _**constructive criticism** is greatly appreciated and always welcomed; being cruel in the name of being honest isn't._
> 
> That's all. I'm sorry if this bothered you, but I simply had to speak my mind since I'm hurt and angry it has come to this. The review and following comments didn't happen in this site, but thought it was best to clarify this here as well in case anybody feels the same way. Hope some of you stay with me and continue enjoying the story!
> 
> xo, Lucy


	9. All for believing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity deals with the aftermaths of the kiss; and Oliver's secret is revealed to someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I wanted to thank you guys for the support on this story, I’ve gotten great feedback lately (mostly). Please know that reading your comments and seeing your kudos means a lot to me :) I’m glad you’re enjoying this story and going on this ride with me, even if sometimes I can’t update as often as it’d be good.  
> Anyway, thank you so much again! And hope you enjoy the next chapter!

 

_I'm all for believing, if you can reveal, the true colours within,_

_Just believe. Just believe. Just believe._

_Trust in me._

 

 

And just like that their new normal was gone.

It didn’t break them apart. Felicity still showed up to work at the foundry the following Monday, having the weekend to sort her thoughts out; yet there was a palpable tension that couldn’t be ignored.

He was there first, as usual, and was met with a quick look his way and a strained smile from her upon arrival. Then she’d settled to work as she usually did, though the comfortable almost silence they once shared while working –sometimes even filled with small talk about Thea or whatever team arrow was looking into– was replaced with furtive glances and pent up tension.

In many ways it resembled her first day in the foundry as part of the team, the one that had ended in their first fall-out; but the circumstances of their awkwardness now were quite different.

He had kissed her.

Well not exactly, they both had kissed each other. And as much as she wanted to rid it from her memory, the feel of him was engraved in her skin, her lips and thoughts. Being in the same room she could feel his burning stare in her, apologetic for crossing a line she obviously wasn’t ready to cross, but passionate as well. It didn’t take words exchanged for her to know he was thinking of their kiss as well; replaying, cherishing, longing for it again.

It had been a moment of weakness. If she was being honest with herself, the thought of kissing Oliver again, of being with him again had crossed her mind plenty of times over the last couple of months. Even through the battling emotions she had for him, that one prevailed: want, _need_.

Still she wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t the same. She wasn’t either. But most of all, it wasn’t as easy as it once had been. They weren’t young and careless, she wasn’t rebounding from heartbreak, and he wasn’t just the guy from the bar that turned out to be kind of wonderful; at least before the rug was pulled from under her feet.

Looking at him from across the room Felicity asked herself for the hundredth time what was holding her back.

He was a different man, one she was just beginning to understand, peeling back the layers one by one. But she still remembered all too well the pain his truth had put her through. She’d been the other woman, the one that tore a relationship apart; and worst of all, she hadn’t even known about it at the time.

His eyes rose and met hers, chest heaving from his heavy workout. For a moment she got lost in the deep blue, desire and need swirling in his eyes. Need for her, not just as they used to be, but _better_. Need for more than just her body; for her mind, her rambling and wandering thoughts, need for her laugh and her faith, softness and strength in the most perfect combination.

And right then and there she wanted it all; she wanted it all _with him_.

This time it took more than the key pad chirping for both of them to notice John entering the lair. It wasn’t until he was standing right between them that Oliver’s and Felicity’s eyes focused on him.

She gave him a bright smile as usual, but her eyes screamed deer in the headlights. Still it was Oliver’s eyes glued to her as she walked upstairs –with a feeble excuse of needing a coffee– that gave them away.

“Oh no, what have you done?”

Oliver turned to him snapping out of his Felicity-induced daze and raised an apologetic eyebrow to his right hand man.

 

* * *

 

Then again, as always, life got in the way.

It started as a solid lead: a well known assassin for hire coming to Starling City, something both Diggle and Oliver knew was surely connected to the undertaking. After weeks of coming up empty handed, no traces of Walter or further proof from his mother, they were all relieved when he popped up in Felicity’s radar.

But, as luck would have it, it didn’t pan out as they hoped for. He wasn’t gonna talk and Oliver didn’t see any other way out that crossing him altogether. Felicity’s frustration over him killing again wasn’t lost to him, but it would have to do. How she still believed in him after being proved wrong time and again he didn’t know.

With the assassin out of the equation all they knew was there was still a target. Neither could foresee how it would go down.

Oliver stared at his best friend; tears blurring his vision and a gun firmly held in his hands, aiming at his heart. Malcolm lay at his side, motionless and out-cold, breath barely leaving his lips.

“Let me help.” Oliver’s voice was stern. The scent of curare alone had him on alert, but having a gun pulled on him by one of his loved ones again felt even worse.

Tommy hesitated, eyes straying from the vigilante to his father’s wound, holding the gun with shaky hands.

“Why should I trust you?” His voice laced with desperation.

Oliver took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, bracing for what had to be done. Then he turned off the voice modulator and let the hood fall back, revealing his true self to his best friend, dreading what was to come.

“Because you always have.”

“Oliver.”

 

* * *

 

He treaded into the lair with heavy steps not long afterwards, his head hanging down and she was there in a heartbeat. He didn’t go through the motions as usual –carefully putting away his quiver and bow, unzipping the jacket to step away from being the vigilante to simply being Oliver–. Instead he remained still at the bottom of the stairs, eyes meeting hers only when his name left her lips in a breathy whisper.

“I’m ok” he said without much conviction, knowing that upon his arrival at the lair after a mission she worried mostly about two things: _his safety_ and the body count; in that order. She could easily read through his lie, words of comfort muttered only for her benefit. Still this time it was different. He didn’t seem _physically_ hurt.

God knows she had helped Diggle patch him up countless times by now, up to the point she could know on instinct where he was hurting as he walked through the door to meet them. Yet now it was his spirit that was broken.

Even through the weird phase they were in since that night at the club, she was still there every day, functioning with the team as best as she could without getting too close to him. That unspoken agreement flew through the window at the look in his eyes.

She knew all too well what it was. She’d heard it all go down through the comms, he could tell by the look in her face.

“I’m sorry, Oliver. I know that mustn’t been easy for you.”

He nodded, closing his eyes once again and doing his best to focus on her hand in his shoulder instead of on the disappointed look on his best friend’s face.

“He asked _why._ ” He mumbled after a moment of silence, pain tainting his words.

“I know.”

“I can’t tell him, Felicity. If I do… he’ll never see me the same way again.”

She hesitated for a beat; she’d never seen him this scared. “I know this probably won’t be very reassuring but he already does, see you differently.”

Blue eyes opened and met hers, shy, burdened; unmasked as he was getting used to being with her now.

“I never meant for him to know, for them to know, my family. I… they want, they _need_ me to be the Oliver I was before. _This_ version of me they can’t take, I don’t want them to.”

Her hand slid up to his face before she could stop herself, needing to comfort him, to make him see the light in the darkness that was clouding his mind then.

“Well I did, and I think I took it quite well.”

A gentle smile tugged at his lips and she could feel how he relaxed at her touch.

“I didn’t want you to see me as that guy from before. And not only for the hair cut.” Their laughs a comfortable noise that cut through the gloomy ambience that had taken over the room until then.

“Besides that; I got to see the good in you. It didn’t take long to realize it beat the bad, even after finding out your secret.” She shot another encouraging smile his way, her hand finding its way to cup his face, fingers gently running over his stubble. He closed his eyes at the contact, leaning into her touch. It had been far too long since he’d felt comfort like this and she managed to give it to him when he needed it the most, without even having to ask for it.

“You just got to give him time, and be _honest_.” It wasn’t lost to him the emphasis she put on the last word. “You’ll be surprised what the people you care about can handle.”

“I am” his reply came when he finally opened his eyes, meeting hers again.

 

* * *

 

_“I’m ready, Tommy. Let’s go.” Oliver let out as he came out of the bathroom, putting on his tie._

_He crossed his room heading for the door, patting his best friends back on the way. He had just adjusted his collar into place when he noticed Tommy still anchored in place, eyes downcast._

_“What is it? Your father?”_

_“No” he let out in a soft voice. “Your phone rang when you were getting ready.”_

_“Oh, was it my mum? She hates when I’m late. You told her we were on our way, right?”_

_“Oliver” Tommy’s voice was serious, no trace of the wit he was known for. “Who’s Felicity?”_

_Only met with silence, Tommy raised his head to read the guilt on his face._

_“You proposed.”_

_“I know” he started, closing the door and walking back to him. “It’s complicated.”_

_“Yeah, you think so? You’re fucking marrying Laurel, Oliver!”_

_“Until yesterday you weren’t into that idea.”_

_“I’m still not. You’re walking into something you’re clearly not ready for. And you know she is. That will tear us apart, after everything we’ve been through. But I thought you were at least going to try.”_

_“I was. It’s just…”_

_“Complicated.” His voice softened seeing Oliver so distraught. Still he wasn’t about to lose both his best friends for this. “What are you doing, man?” he asked sighing._

_“I don’t know.” Oliver thought it over for a minute. Ever since that night he’d dived head first into his thing with Felicity. It had felt too right, natural to question it. And as much as he didn’t have the best conscious ever, he knew that dwelling on it would only complicate things further. There was much he didn’t know: what he would do, how he would get out of this mess with everything he wanted. Only one thing was clear._

_“But for the first time, it feels right.”_

 

* * *

 

Felicity jumped from her seat at the sound of broken glass.

She was supposed to be alone. The foundry vacant of its usual sparring, Oliver and Dig out dealing with one crazy vengeful wannabe archer that Oliver knew about. She knew there was something else there, but hadn’t gotten around to question him about it yet; the awkwardness of their current romantic situation keeping her in place. Her mind was reeling after the week they’d had, thus she found herself in the foundry on a Saturday morning coding; at least until she heard movement upstairs.

The club wasn’t opening until the following weekend and there were no deliveries to be done that day that she knew of. So she climbed the stairs as stealthy as she could –seriously, she needed a lesson or two from Oliver on that subject, he was silent as a cat–, phone at hand, fingers ready to speed dial her favorite vigilante. They still when upon opening the door she spotted Tommy, leaning against the bar, gulping down a very expensive bottle of scotch; a clear bottle of vodka now smashed on the floor by his feet.

He spotted her when she was already by his side, still pondering whether to call Oliver anyway or not; deciding on the latter to spare him of the pain that scene would bring up.

“Haha, ‘licity, isn’t it? What am I saying, of course it is! You’re everything Oliver ever thinks about anymore and then refuses to talk about.” Tommy slurred, sounding quite more inebriated than she thought.

“Tommy” she offered, a helping hand outstretched as if silently asking for the bottle.

“What, you want a drink? I didn’t peg you as the day drinker type, more of the straight and narrow like Oliver’s been lately… well, was.” He laughed off after a minute.

“You know, you better be careful with him, he’s _full_ of surprises.” The humor drained from his face upon reading hers.

“You know.” It wasn’t a question; she didn’t exactly have the best poker face but, most of all, now that he _knew_ , he deserved to know everything.

To her surprise he just scoffed. "You know. Of course, his long lost love from a lifetime ago knows but he couldn't clue his best friend in. Why? Did he think I couldn't keep the secret? That I was too immature to do so?"

"Well, you're handling it very maturely" she quipped before she could stop herself. Still he didn’t look insulted, simply taken aback, amused even. "I'm sorry.”

She hesitated for a moment; she knew Oliver needed to deal with this himself, but giving in her two cents couldn’t hurt, right?

“Look, I know I'm probably stepping way out of line, and you finding out is definitely a bigger deal than when I did. But he's not what you think he is, Tommy."

"A murderer?" His voice came dry, raising the bottle back to his lips.

She took a pause then, reading the anger and pain in his eyes.

"I get it, trust me I do. Not that long ago I feared the same thing. But he proved me wrong, that there's more to it. There's a story there, about him, what he went through to be who he is. And I may not know it yet, he's got it buried deep within him; all I know it's no good."

Silence took over them; she relaxed at seeing him lower the bottle, eyes now focused on her.

"He's a good man. He may not be the Oliver you thought he was; but believe me when I say it's worth sticking around and figuring him out. You will find more good that you even think."

She could tell he was lost in thought, mulling over her words. So she pressed a comforting hand in his shoulder and flashed him a warm smile, before walking away; hoping those words would bring forth his trust in Oliver, at least enough to let him in.

"And Tommy" she called out before the lair’s door, making him meet her eyes again. "You and your opinion mean the world to him. Please don't tear him apart before hearing the whole story. I don't think he can take it."

And then she was gone. His eyes drifted in the distance, the emptiness of the club a stark contrast to the mess in his head.

 

* * *

 

And so he did, took a step forward, guards down this time.

Oliver met him halfway that night at the bar, a sincere apology leaving his lips at the hurt expression in Tommy’s face. It took some time, and they’d certainly not be the same but the door was open and his message came across.

“Lying to the people that are closest to me is the hardest part.” Oliver shared lowering his voice, terrified of losing his best friend.

Tommy took that in, swallowing his pride at seeing what Felicity had disclosed before: how much he cared, how scared he was, how _broken_ he was beneath the surface. Where once he seemed to have it all together, with this new piece of information, he now saw the cracks, the pain. And to hell if he would be the one to deepen that pain.

He offered an outstretched hand, Oliver’s eyes opened in both surprise and appreciation, taking his in a firm handshake that feelt much more like a hello than a goodbye.

A silent thank you passed through before Tommy’s eyes averted to the side and, leaning in closer to his best friend, muttered in secrecy. “You better hold on to that one. If you mean it this time, don’t let go.”

Oliver’s eyes followed his lead, falling on Felicity across the room, a timid smile now on her face.

“I don’t plan to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I know this chapter was very Tommy centered but I really wanted to write more about his discovery of Oliver’s other identity, since it’s a very important plot in the show and I would’ve liked to see it more developed, especially the whole Tommy coming to terms with it until he fully understand it. Ok and I may also miss Tommy a lot, and he’s a joy to write too.  
> Also, there’s a new element here of the flashback to before the island! I struggled a bit to find pre-island-Oliver’s voice, but feel it’s a good insight to the changes Felicity had in him, even before the island. So, _**I wanted to know if you’d be interested in olicity flashbacks from back then.**_ I was thinking snipets of how they were, maybe?  
> Finally, here Felicity kinda makes up her mind. Now its up to see if she’s gonna act on it…
> 
> Until next week! And, as always, encouragement or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)


	10. Fade into you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verdant's opening night and a very special archery lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here goes chapter 10 and I can’t believe I’ve written this much! The other day I finally wrote the idea for the final chapter and, though there are still a couple more before that one, the story is all outlined now; all there’s left to do is write it out :)  
> Hope you enjoy it!

 

_In your heart, in your head,_

_in your arms, in your bed under your skin,_

_Til there’s no way to know where_

_you end and where I begin_

 

 

Things slowed down after that, much to everyone’s surprise. Though the danger of the undertaking still lurked over them, everything else seemed to fall back on track. For now, with no new leads on Walter or the disappeared dark archer, Oliver had his personal life to work on.

He and Thea were finally in speaking terms, though their conversations stayed mostly about the club, and her new boyfriend –that Oliver promptly had Felicity run a background check on–.

With Tommy now on their side, sidetracking Lance from his aggressive hunt for the vigilante became an easier task; and having his best friend to fall back on after a tough day was no small victory either.

The only hiccup came when Helena took a small detour on her way out of town, after Diggle and Oliver had threatened her, to warn Felicity of Oliver’s short-comings. She had popped up at the IT department –as if she weren’t a wanted assassin– and scared her straight, surely as retaliation to Oliver, before fleeing the country. How she had found her in the first place, they didn’t know.

 

Saturday came and with it Verdant’s opening night. With his public façade on, Oliver walked through the wild crowd, having to stop to shake a few hands and take a picture here and there. As much as he disliked that scene now, it had to be done; his cover depended on it.

The throbbing bass deafened him temporarily, the once welcoming sound now felt overwhelming. He scanned the crowd searching for an out when he spotted Tommy across the room, his head tilting to the side in a ‘follow me’ sign. He took a much needed break from the act and met him by the bar, where his best friend greeted him with a glass of bourbon.

“I really hope you’re not serving this, or we’ll go broke.” He joked tasting the familiar drink and drawing a chuckle from Tommy. “You have no idea how much I needed that” he added downing the glass.

“I could tell, pal” Tommy shared patting him on the back. “You looked like you were going to punch somebody.”

“If only I could.” He muttered eyeing the crowd, wondering how he used to enjoy this.

“Well, that would certainly fit with the old-Oliver behaviour.” He refilled their glasses and laughed at the tension clear in his best friends’ face. “I know it’s been quite a while since you’ve done this, but you know you’re supposed to be enjoying yourself, right? Like with body shots, and dancing…”

Oliver simply shot him a look that made his smile widen. He much preferred the room empty with the exception of a particular blonde, as they had been not that long ago.

“… or not” Tommy went on, finishing his drink. “So I guess there wasn’t much dancing on the island?” Little by little he tried to get Oliver to talk about that experience, truthfully this time. So far he’d gotten bits and pieces of stories that sure ran deeper that he let on; something about a man with an arrow, and a soldier who taught him how to fight. Other day he got him talking about what he ate on the island, drawing a few laughs that made his day.

“You guess right.” Oliver shared refilling his glass.

As the liquid burned down his throat his eyes landed on Felicity. Across the room she walked round the throng of dancing bodies, eyeing the place warily before scurrying away beneath the staircase, surely craving the safety of their hiding spot.

Settling his drink down he didn’t even heard Tommy’s joke regarding his hypnotized-Oliver-face whenever Felicity was on his radar before following her trail. Though the welcoming feel of the lair was only a few feet away, he got stopped twice on the way over, delaying his escape.

When he finally descended the stairs Oliver found her by his desk, his compound bow in her hands.

“I thought you believed archery to be ridiculous.” He voiced by the bottom of the stairs, humor clear in his tone.

Felicity jumped startled, unaware of his presence, and dropped the bow on the table as if it was on fire.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to… I don’t even know; I was curious.” Her voice came hurried as she fidgeted with the edge of her cardigan. The last time she had held it flashing before her eyes; how much had changed since then.

“It’s okay.” Oliver shared approaching her.

She bit her lower lip, a telltale of being nervous, eyes straying upwards focusing on the music beating through the roof.

“A nightclub. Who would’ve thought it’d work in this part of town?”

“It seemed a good excuse as any. I already had the place, it’s something the old-Oliver would do and noisy enough so we could work without being noticed.”

“You know, Diggle hates it when you talk in the third person like that” she chuckled. “Well, it looks great. Not, that I know lots about clubs or that scene really, but it’s packed.” She added to avoid giving into the tension that just seemed to overpower the room whenever they were alone.

“It is. Tommy did a great job.” Her smile widened having seen their friendship coming together again.

Silence overtook the room again, the booming sound of the speakers upstairs barely filtering through. Felicity’s eyes danced around him, afraid to lose herself in his stare, being more than aware she had his full attention. A beat passed before he moved again, closer until she was expecting his touch, already debating what to do next. Still he stopped by her side and put his bow away, stealing a glance her way before reaching inside his chest from where he pulled a smaller one and a set of simpler arrows.

Blue eyes followed his every move, fingers now clutching the rim of the table to keep herself still. She looked up and finally met his eyes when a hand outstretched the bow her way.

“Try this one; it’s lighter.” His voice was warm, inviting; an encouraging smile played at the edges of his mouth.

She hesitated for a moment before taking a hold of it, their fingers brushing lightly in the process.

Oliver walked back then, taking his suit jacket off and dropping it off on her chair. Felicity busied herself studying the weight of this bow and heading hesitantly towards his practice wall. She had seen countless times his whole ‘arrowing ping-pong balls to the wall’ routine and his accuracy never failed to impress her. The dents on the wall marked where the arrows had struck, with an amount of strength and speed that proved just how deadly Oliver could be.

Taking a hold of one of the plain arrows she looked over her shoulder at him. At his slight nod of approval Felicity turned back around and raised the bow.

"So, Helena…” she begun, lightly holding the arrow on the string. He knew this was coming, his hurried departure to deal with the elusive brunette not going unnoticed. Ever since Helena had paid her a visit he was expecting Felicity to bring it up, at least what she had told her.

“Yes…” Oliver offered, subtly giving her consent to ask away.

“She sure was a character. How did you meet her? Not to meddle, she just doesn't seem the type of person you would've just stumbled upon before. I mean, beside the obvious arrowing people angle you guys don't seem that much alike."

He frowned not really getting her point of view. “We’re more alike than you think. She’s rich too, not the best parent figures either.”

“Yes, I know” she conceded, letting him know she had in fact looked her up. “But she’s… _evil_.” Voice laced with sadness as she finally drew the bow, concentrating on the target.

He processed her words for a moment, taken aback by her distinction. Oliver was still fighting himself with the notion of being anything other than a killer and she, without knowing him for that long, seemed to see the light buried within him so clearly it was scary. Around her he felt better, wanted to be that man she saw, instead of the shell of the man that had came back from purgatory not that long ago.

The sound of the vibrating string as she released the arrow brought him back to the present. Felicity huffed in frustration as the arrow landed a mere foot away from her.

"Helena is... an old associate." He shared while she retook her position, barely pausing to look his way over her shoulder.

"From the island?" she asked after a full minute had passed, taking another shot, the arrow falling again close to her feet. Not enough pressure.

He pondered the question while pulling his shirt sleeves up. "Sort of... from after."

"And you guys dated." It wasn't a question. Helena had made it more than clear that she knew _most_ of Oliver.

"Not really." He added through gritted teeth, those memories not ones he would like to recount.

"Oh"

Though hesitant he seemed inviting, the wall he usually surrounded himself with barely there. That gave Felicity the courage to inquire further.

"Were there others, women in the island -or after the island?" She tried to sound casual, eyes focused on the bow still in her hands.

A pensive silence followed her question as she anchored her feet and tried her best to aim.

"One" he finally said and she released her hold on the string, the arrow tumbling to the floor.

A hushed ‘ _fuck’_ left her lips and if he hadn’t been so acutely focused on her every action he would’ve missed it. Still it wasn’t clear whether her response was due to his answer or the frustrating try at archery.

Whatever it was troubled her enough to lower the bow and, after picking the arrow up, lay it down on the desk by her right with a thud.

He stepped forward then until he stood by her side, callous fingers tracing the arrow tip. Felicity turned around and studied the sorrow that clouded his features now, eyes glued to the arrow though she was well aware he was miles away.

“Oliver, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He looked her way then, allowing her to see the grief swarming in his blue eyes; still a smile played at the edges of his lips.

“It’s ok. She’s a good memory, most of the times.”

Silence enveloped them again as he searched for words and she waited patiently. When he spoke again his voice was even, eyes lost in the distance again.

“Her name was Shado. She was Yao-Fei’s daughter.” Felicity nodded in return, remembering what Oliver had shared about his savior and first mentor. He paused again, the taste the use of past tense left in his tongue being unsettling. “After he died she came with me and Slade. We were a team. By then I was still… useless, as Slade would say. I didn’t know how to fight, running away was my default. Then she taught me how to shoot an arrow.”

His lips curled in an almost smile then, memories flashing before his eyes as if it had been yesterday.

“It wasn’t easy, I’d never been a good student. But she was patient and with time I got the hand of it; after many days of slapping water that is.” A low chuckle escaped him then, which brought a smile to her lips; though the meaning was quite lost to her the sight of an amused Oliver never failed to brighten her up.

“You know, she had this saying: ‘ _an arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward’_. At first I thought she was just trying to teach me to shoot; but one day when death seemed so near she explained. ‘ _When life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means it’s going to launch you into something great. So just focus, and keep aiming’_.”

His voice lowered, so much so that she had to lean in to listen to the last part. Still the emotion was clear in his tone, moisture forming in his eyes.

Felicity took a step forward, a hand covering his before she could think it twice. He was still clutching the arrowhead with such strength it would surely leave a mark, the tension leaving him only slightly as her hand fell on his. Blue met blue, the knot in her stomach untangling at the warm smile that he flashed her then, smoothing worried lines off his forehead.  

“You asked me the other day if I had any happy stories from that time… she’s it.”

Time stood still as her fingers ghosted over the back of his hand until he turned it upwards and interlaced it with hers. The tenderness of that touch sent tingles all over her skin, eyes still glued to his, lips rising in a smile of her own.

“I’m glad you had her.” Felicity’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, lost in the intimacy of that moment.

She didn’t know how long they stood like that, breathing each other’s air, reading the emotion in the planes of their faces. Still when he broke the silence it felt too soon.

“Your stance.”

“What?” His smile widened at her confusion.

“Your stance is the problem; why the arrow falls down.”

“Oh.” _Guess we are changing topics._ It was welcomed, since his gaze felt like too much; still there was a small part of her that was hoping for more.

“May I?” Oliver offered with a hand outstretched.

Felicity didn’t really trust her voice so instead she nodded. He came to stay behind her as she turned towards the target again, wondering how the bow hadn’t fallen from her grasp before as she had completely forgotten about its existence, too lost in him.

Then Oliver’s hands were on her. Running up her spine to straighten her up and leaving a shivering trail in its way, as his knee nudged her knees apart until her feet were shoulder-width apart. The other enclosed the hand that held the bow, placing the once discarded arrow between the nest and the string.

She followed his lead, complying with every direction he dictated; though, being honest, she was more focused on how his breath fanned over her sensitive skin than in what he was saying.

His left hand skimmed down to her waist then, lightly turning her sideways until she stood with the right angle to the target. Next his right one was over her grip on the tail of the arrow, accommodating her fingers properly, before the thumb that rested at her lower back arched her forward. A trembled sigh left her lips at the contact, too intimate, searing her skin even through the two layers of clothing that separated them.

“Good” he whispered behind her, his voice low and gruff as she’d only heard a long time ago, after he’d just woken up. “Now raise and draw the bow; but relax.” _As if that was possible right now._

As if illustrating his words, the thumb began to softly stroke her back in what were supposed to be soothing motions. Still her muscles went taught and she sucked in a breath, barely being able to hold the current running through her body at the moment. If someone had told her archery would be this arousing she would have snorted in disbelief. Yet there he was, proving her wrong.

His right hand released its hold on her fingers to lower her elbow slightly and then fell to her side, lightly grasping her hip.

“Pull the bow back a little, the string almost has to touch your lips. Like that.”

He sounded breathless, as heady as she felt right now. Felicity couldn’t help then stealing a glance at him over her shoulders. As their eyes met she saw her desire mirrored in his darkened blues. In the emptiness of the lair that act felt more intimate that she could’ve ever imagined, as if Oliver was sharing a deep part of himself with her.

Focusing back before her she took a deep breath, picking one of his dents on the wall as a target; though right then she was happy with simply being capable of standing on her own two feet.

Oliver’s fingers tightened on her hip, and she could almost feel his encouraging smile against her neck.

“Good; now shoot.”

As her finger released its hold on the string, the arrow sliced through the air and plunged into the wall with the utmost strength.

"That was good" he let out, closer to her ear that she expected, goose bumps taking over the bare skin of her neck. Her throat suddenly felt very dry, more than aware that Oliver didn’t move an inch even after she had released the arrow and put the bow down beside her. Felicity closed her eyes trying to fill her lungs, the room feeling too hot, blood pulsing through her veins in an erratic rhythm.

“Oliver…?” she breathed through shaky lips, not really knowing what she was asking, completely lost in the feel of him around her, still yearning for more.

“Hmm” he simply hummed against her ear, warm breath tickling her skin again with every shallow breath he took.

That was it; he was giving her an out. Last time he had been the one to take that step, capturing her lips in an earth-shattering kiss. And she had walked away, whispering she wasn’t ready. Now the roles were reversed; though the same all-encompassing feeling took over them she had a choice.

Felicity closed her eyes in a futile attempt to gather her thoughts; logical thinking wasn’t really an option when Oliver was around, especially as his fingers dug into her waist, his front deliciously pressed against her back. A bet passed as her right hand grasped his over her hip.

“ _Fuck it_.”

The hushed curse left her mouth in a rush before she turned around in his arms and captured his lips in hers, two pairs of blue eyes shutting in pure ecstasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This was quite a feat to write, but once I found my footing it was really fun. I know the ‘teaching how to shoot an arrow’ theme is quite delicate, since he did it on the show with Helena; but here we see that his relationship with said crazy lady isn’t the same and, obviously, that scene never happened. In this cannon Felicity is the first person he teaches how to shoot and particularly with his old bow.  
> I’m no expert in archery, so I’ve googled the technique and hope it’s been applied correctly. Forgive me for any mistakes in this matter.  
> I know this cliffhanger is a bit rude but the word count was getting out of hand, and otherwise I wouldn’t have uploaded in a while longer –decent and interesting kissing scenes take me forever to write–. I promise that next chapter picks up right where this one left off!  
> By the way, the quote about the arrow, that Shado used to say, was taken from this 9gag post:<http://9gag.com/gag/aD0PLAx> I felt she was quite an inspirational and centered person, who had a lot of influence on Oliver’s transformation.  
> Lastly, I apologize in advance because I’ll probably won’t be updating in the upcoming weeks. This semester at college finishes soon and I’ve got loads to do (it’s my birthday on Sunday and I’ll spend it between text books in my room, so yeah, not the best of times).  
> Anyway, thank you all so much for your ongoing support and encouragement. Until next time!


	11. Never like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermaths of the archery lesson and a window to the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while, so thank you for holding on. I’m almost done with exams now, so will be back to a normal updating rhythm soon.  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

_I found myself in a situation_

_No walls, no reservations_

_Diving in deep, no hesitations_

_It's taking too much time and I'm tired of waiting_

  

 

_There was little she could think about at the moment._

_Through fogged mind she barely registered the ride over, hooded eyes etched on the nervous tick of his jaw, the way he would steal a glance her way whenever his attention wasn’t needed on the road, how he clutched onto the steering wheel with more force than necessary trying to keep it together, from reaching across to touch her._

_Restraint didn’t seem like one of his many qualities since hands went astray and gliding over her thigh whenever a red light halted his rushed driving; blue eyes darkened with desire, lips demanding on hers. Tugging, tasting, pulling before leaving hers with a smug smirk when a blaring horn blasted from behind them._

_Somehow they made it there without combusting in anticipation, light grazes and hypnotizing glances not nearly being enough. The normal and expected questions didn’t flood her mind as he pulled the car and rushed to her side, broad arms falling so comfortably around her waist the moment she was on her feet, lips glued to hers as if he were drowning and she held all the oxygen of the world. Between the alcohol drowning her blood and the invigorating feel of him all around her, she blindly followed his lead, letting go of inhibition, of doubts and missing information about exactly who she was doing; instead getting lost on the what._

_Deft fingers worked on the lock while still holding onto her for dear life; then tugged at her waist and one step followed another until stairs got on their way. A groan left him in protest before he nimbly picked her up, a smirk growing back on his handsome face as his hands kneaded up her tights; hungry grin widening at her breathy response, holding him closer, urging them forward._

_Stairs quickly left behind, a hand left its place underneath the hem of her dress to yank a door open, unbridled, eager, impatiently pressing her against the now closed door, lips working over hers, demanding yet giving so much. She could only react, breathe harshly as thoughts left her in a rush, intoxicated, so willingly gone in his arms. Drawing a trail over her jaw he nibbled the sensitive skin, lips curving appreciatively as delicious mewls left her lips in a symphony, asking for more._

_“What’s your name?” he let out, blue eyes fluttering open to meet his expectant gaze by her side._

_“Felicity”, she breathed trying to find a steady ground, gripping onto him for dear life with no plans of letting go._

_Again a devilish smirk pulled at his lips in return and, when they were merely an inch away from retaking his claim on hers, huskily whispered a single word in return; one name she would savior in her tongue time and again in the hours to come._

* * *

 

“Oliver”, she moaned when his lips finally left hers, leaning her forehead against his.

Barely a few minutes had passed since the bow had been placed on his desk with a thud, still her lungs burned in complaint given breath had hardly reached them ever since; since that curse had been voiced, since she’d turned around in his arms, leaning in, hands reaching, pulling. She had barely registered the grunt reverberating up his throat before swallowing it whole, lips capturing his in familiar warmth.

Unlike last time, no one was wavering, there were no pauses, no one was frozen in place, hesitance having left them after the torturous ten minutes of foreplay his archery lesson had consisted of. Instead there was release, resolution for the pent up tension that had kept them on edge ever since he’d walked up behind her, hands so effortlessly eliciting goose bumps all over her skin. As if mirroring those moves, fingers clutched at her lower back, pressing her as close as possible to him, bodies melding together as if they were made for each other.

Blue eyes fluttered open to meet his and, though she was still heaving from the previous kiss, there was no question to be asked. Angling her head to the side rose lips met his once more, not before he got to see them rise in a satisfied grin he couldn’t help but mirror.

He gave up all kind of restraint next, anxious hands drawing him in by a fistful in his dress shirt clearly signaling she wanted this as much as he did. In response his fingers dug into her back as his tongue worked hers thoughtfully, having to suppress another smile as she replied with the same amount of passion, taking and giving as hard as he did.

She quickly became engrossed with him, completely lost as her senses felt only Oliver; husk smell, rough touch against the naked skin on her back, where her shirt had been freed from her skirt, wickedly talented mouth slanting over hers relentlessly until he coursed a moan from her trembling lips.

He hummed in approval, drawing back to see her flushed cheeks. Darkened eyes locked on his before an urgent hand took hold of his neck, nails raking over sensitive skin drawing out her name in the form of a growl. It took only a gentle pull forward for him to lean in again, his right hand coming to cup her face and guiding their every move, as if it was necessary. Their tongues dueled, hands tugging urgently as they moved backwards until her back hit the edge of his desk. Her nails trailed down his back, kneading the muscle she encountered on the way, feeling empowered as Oliver tensed and grunted accordingly.

His hands weren’t idle either, drawing her impossibly close, committing every second of that heavenly moment to memory. A flash of that first night crossed his mind when his fingers reached the back of her tights bringing forth a smirk against her mouth as he tugged her up and close before placing her on the desk. Her legs parted at once, lips never straying from one another, harsh breaths mingling as he took the cue and stepped between them.

“Oliver” she purred once more when his lips released hers and kissed a path to the hollow of her throat, his thumb dangerously tracing along the edge of her skirt. He smiled against her skin, pleased of how breathless she sounded, and proceeded to deftly nip her pulse point, one he recalled being a very sensitive spot for her; the moan he got in reply more than asserting his guess.

Lost in the rapid pounding of her heart beneath his touch and the way her nails kept his head in place, Oliver failed to notice the other noise filling the lair. It wasn’t until his name dripped from Felicity’s lips again, calling his attention with the urgency and panic clear in her tone, that he leaned back to see what was wrong. The delicate hand that had released his hair no long before now desperately pushed him away, troubling his mind and making him wonder if she was already regretting this, having snapped out of their daze. Still a throat clearing behind him swiftly gave her reaction and the blush creeping over her cheeks another meaning.

Oliver turned around and was met with no other that Tommy’s raised eyebrows and shit-eating grin after having just walked in on their heavy, very hand-on make out session. Though Oliver’s frown disappeared at the sight, knowing probably that was the reason Felicity had pulled away, the uncomfortable expression he saw when stealing a glance her way wasn’t that comforting either.

“I’m sorry to interrupt”, Tommy cut in the palpable tension, effectively drawing Oliver’s attention back from her. “But you’re needed upstairs. Thea wants you to give a speech or something, been nagging about you bailing on the party for a while now. Don’t worry, I told her you had sneaked away for a quickie with a feisty blonde; which actually seems to be true now.” He finished with an amused smile as Felicity pulled at her clothes trying to look presentable and Oliver cleared his throat sending him quite the death glare –though he hardly looked menacing with pink smudged lips–.

After glancing back at her and seeing her blush a deeper shade of red –that he knew for a fact extended far beyond the cleavage of the shirt she was wearing– he addressed his friend with utmost authority. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Oh I think you already are”, Tommy hinted fully amused, eliciting another groan in protest from Oliver as Felicity’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Okay, okay; I’m going.” He exclaimed raising his hands in surrender, though a full on smile still remained in place. “But don’t take long ‘cause I can’t hold Thea off for much longer.”

Oliver wiped at his lips and then faced her again once the door soundly closed behind Tommy. She was pacing between the desks, putting away his bow and the arrows used; tucking her shirt back on her high-wasted skirt as she walked to the one still plunged into the wall. Her lips pressed in a hard line at the effort of pulling the arrow free and then, as if sensing his eyes trained on her, she looked up.

“Felicity”, he breathed, silently saying much more. _What are you thinking? What do you want to do? Please don’t drive me away._

She seemed to take a moment to collect herself, delicate fingers tracing the arrow as if it held all the answers needed. Then walked to the chest to lay it next to the other bunch; her eyes were still glued to it when she softly broke the silence.

“We need to talk, don’t we?”

He nodded once she looked up and their eyes locked again. A hesitant step her way prompted another as he saw she didn’t flinch or stop him. He halted a foot away, sensing her hesitation; still he could see words being played on her tongue so he waited patiently until she gathered her thoughts.

“This is undeniable.” She stated and he silently agreed. There was really no point in fooling themselves, she thought. “But, right now, I need time. I can’t just dive into this, whatever _this_ is, head first.”

 _Fair enough_ , Oliver thought, still a wave of disappointment washed over him at her words; or more accurately, at the hesitance in her tone.

“I’m not good at fast.” Felicity went on, quite a few memories she wasn’t too fond of flashing before her eyes at the thought. It seemed Oliver was the exception in that issue, or at least he had been. Yet there were still things that held her at bay, that needed to be talked over, dealt with for her to feel good about this.

“I would have to disagree.” Oliver quipped, unable to help himself, fairly different memories flooding his mind at the moment. She looked up and, reading the double meaning on his words and the familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, couldn’t help but chuckle, a faint blush tainting her delicate skin again.

As their laugher echoed around them Oliver walked over there, a tentative hand cupping her cheek with the lightest of touches, making her meet his eyes.

“You need to head upstairs”, Felicity said in protest, though still leaning against his touch.

“I know.”

His voice was calm, a warm smile stretching across his face as she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips ever so slightly over his. One peck, then two before a hand nudged his chest backwards and she slipped from his hold.

Oliver walked towards the stairs fully invigorated, genuine happiness on his face as their eyes met once more before he stepped back to pretending. Though not fully together yet, seeing Felicity not close the door on them and actually take a few steps forward gave him hope.

“Where have you been? And why do you look so smug?” Thea questioned him looking rather rattled once he joined her by the bar. “Oh my god, don’t tell me Tommy was actually telling me the truth! Gross! Way to over share, Merlyn!” His sister complained throwing his best friend a disapproving glare where he stood behind the bar. “Anyway, you got to do some work here, Ollie. I haven’t been paid nearly enough for all this, and you know that public speeches are _not_ my thing, regardless of the drinks I’ve had.”

“What?” Oliver reacted, eyebrows shot upwards in response.

“Nothing.” Thea promptly said before shoving a microphone in his hand while ushering him to the stage up front and, just as the spotlight was being directing to him, music suddenly halting as if on cue, she bargained with a smile on her face. “Tell you what, you look past the drinking and I’ll ignore the pink lipstick smudged all over your mouth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thanks for reading!_  
>  Also to everyone who expressed their wish for olicity flashbacks! Here is your first taste, a little snipet of the night when it all started; which fitted quite nicely as a mirror to their present situation. I wrote that first part with a different technique, like edited stream of consciousness, trying to express what she was feeling and seeing in that moment. Hope you guys enjoyed it and it wasn’t too weird or confusing.  
> Reading your observations, what you like most and what you expect means a lot, and it’s really helpful, so thank you guys so so much for that!! Keep them coming, please :)  
> Until next time!


	12. Easy silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death and the demons it leaves behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I know I took forever to update, I'll be honest about it. I've been feeling a bit lost about this story lately, doubting and second guessing quite a lot what's already been written and whatever new chapter or snippet I pen down too. I know where I want it to go, but it doesn't feel genuine sometimes. Even this chapter got out of my hands and the conversation I wanted to happen ended up taking a very different direction.  
> I'm not going to give up on it, that's for sure. But I don't feel as confident about it anymore, so updating will probably take longer than it used to. Anyway, I hope you are still enjoying it and stick with me for what's to come; just wanted you guys to know it's not that I'm not trying or want to update, but that I'm struggling with it.  
> On another note, this chapter is dedicated to the lovely [BlueMorgana](http://bluemorgana.tumblr.com/) :) Hope it cheers you up (even though it's kind of angsty, but oh well, it's an update I guess)

 

 

**EASY SILENCE**

 

_Easy silence that you make for me_

_It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me_

_And the peaceful quiet you create for me_

_And the way you keep the world at bay for me_

 

 

They were thrown back to business soon after that, Oliver feeling more motivated than ever before. Between the fact that talk on the undertaking had been dead silent for quite a while, and that Felicity had asked him for a few days to get her thoughts in order, he had dived head first into his work, crossing a name after another.

Friday night in the lair started pretty promising, with a shirtless Oliver training over her station, because where else could he do pull ups from a pipe on the ceiling? Between grunts and shallow breaths he asked about the night’s target -or _targets_ if it was up to him-, Felicity doing her best to follow the conversation, begrudgingly tearing her eyes from the bulging muscles of his back to gather the intel necessary on her screens. 

Once a target had been picked Oliver dropped to the floor graciously, making it look far more effortless that it probably was; then picked his notebook up and turned to her.

“John Nikel then. We’ll cross him off the list tonight.” He announced and waited for her to look away from the screens and meet his eyes again before going on, softer voice in form of a question. _Are you okay with this?_

Though not always outright saying it, Oliver had taken the habit of waiting for her approval on their targets and plan of action. And, more and more with time, Felicity had found herself giving the go-ahead; understanding his reasons and how much good could be done.

“One hundred percent,” she voiced, clear and firm as her eyes followed Nikel’s figure on the footage playing on her screens.

“Great,” Oliver added beside her, prompting Diggle to go get ready, and he himself turning to change into his vigilante suit.

It took a full minute for her attention to drift from the target to Oliver’s presence behind her, rustling clothes being heard as he took his work-out pants off. Felicity kept her back to him, not wanting to break the illusion and also very aware of the mostly naked Oliver behind her, which couldn’t lead to anything good. 

She could swear he was doing it on purpose, testing the waters maybe, his smirk so clearly felt even without having her eyes on him. And yes, even through heartbreak and several years awol Oliver Queen still had that effect on her; then again, he wasn’t totally unaffected by her either, if last week’s encounter was any indication.

Taking a deep breath once a zipper had been heard, Felicity turned to face him and was effectively met with a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips, blue eyes dancing with joy. Before she could doubt herself she bee lined to his desk and, after retrieving his bow from his dear trunk, met him at the center of the lair. 

“Be safe.” She simply said as softly as she could while still trying to make it sound like a warning. _Don’t get yourself killed. Don’t kill if you don’t have to._ And many more that didn’t need to be voice for him to understand and give a slight nod before taking his bow from her and meeting Diggle upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Still what had seemed as another normal case soon spiraled out of control. 

One minute Oliver stormed fuming into the lair because their target had been taken, then he’d been talked into dinner with Diggle only to get confronted over the palpable tension his thing with Felicity was leaving him with; the next he was racing through the city trying to save a man’s life only to end up hearing Felicity’s cry over the comm when a trigger had been pulled.

Every ounce of anger and annoyance he had slipped away the second he stepped back into the lair and found her barely holding on, standing yet feeling so lost, eyes brimming with tears as that gunshot echoed in her mind.

_It wasn’t your fault_ , he said; yet it wasn’t enough. Though she didn’t burden herself with every failure as he did, this one weighted her down as two men had already died, life going out of them right in front of her eyes. 

He understood, having felt that way more times that he could count back before death became so familiar and expected. So instead of using his words, that more often than not failed him miserably, Oliver followed her lead, recounting how easily she had comforted him upon Tommy’s reveal, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Their eyes met, unshed tears shining on hers propelling him forward until she was enveloped in his arms, pressing her face to his neck, silent tears dampening his skin as he held her close.

 

Yet time never seemed to be on their side as Roy got taken. Everything happened on a blur after that and, even though they cracked the code and Thea’s friend got to safety, it still felt like a failed mission; another body dropped from his bow, another needless death they couldn’t prevent.

By the time Oliver made it back to the club and checked on Thea, Felicity was long gone; much too much strain for a day’s work. As he walked towards his bike to head home for the same reasons, he couldn’t shake the look on her face, how broken and guilt ridden she had seemed that afternoon. Before he could second guess his choice he texted her and picked something up; his bike roaring to life next as he sped through the city streets towards her place.

She opened the door wearing another of those baggy sweaters that looked so good on her, a drained expression on her face even as she faked a smile for his benefit; yet him, as the king of pretending, read right through it, though appreciating the gesture.

Felicity stayed uncharacteristically silent as she let him inside, words just leaving her lips when she spotted what he had brought with him.

“Is that what I think it is?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he offered her the bottle of wine he had been holding behind his back.

“Lafite Rothschild 1982,” Felicity read the label mirroring his expression before teasing him slightly. “You finally won that scavenger hunt, hun?”

“I may have bought a case after that with hopes we would get to share it someday. Tonight seemed like a good time as any for a glass of wine or two.”

“Three, I would say.” Felicity corrected and went for a couple of glasses as he walked towards her living room. Settling on the couch he waited until she padded her way over, poured them a generous amount of red wine and took a seat beside him. 

As they waited for the wine to air out, silence took over the room, all trace of amusement or teasing gone as his eyes got lost in the distance. Not one to miss any changes in his demeanor, Felicity laid a hand over his where it lay on his leg, soft fingers soothing over rough skin as he pondered his words.

“I killed him.” 

His words echoed around them, saddened and remorseful; her hold on his hand tightening in reply.

“You had to. I heard it all go down, Oliver. He would have killed Thea’s friend if you hadn’t.” 

Somehow that didn’t make the weight in his chest any lighter. In days like this one he wondered how much easier this job would be if he stopped caring, if he went back to being the deadly machine he was before returning home, how similar he was to the man he had just killed today, what set them apart. 

Her warmth seeped into him from where she held his hand, a light tug making him meet her eyes.

“You are not the same. I know that now, and so should you.” Felicity breathed, as if she were reading his thoughts. That ability scared the hell out of him, for the scars that run way beneath the surface weren’t something he was sure she should see as of yet.

Still Felicity never seized to surprise him and whatever she saw in his gaze barely made her waiver before leaning in and brushing her lips ever so lightly over his. Just one touch, then two, no pressure or hurry, just comfort, one soft touch at the time. 

She pulled back before he could react, a gentle smile now pulling at the corner of his lips in thanks. A shy nod was her only response before she turned away to pick up their glasses, handing him the emptiest one; one meaningful look exchanged for him to realize this was another trait of his she had picked up upon without the need for asking. 

Felicity leaned back against the couch and focused on her glass, sipping absentmindedly as silence enveloped them once more. 

Unlike what could be expected, considering how words left her lips in a flurry at all times, silences with Felicity were anything but awkward. Before the island he had rejoiced in loud, mind-numbing noise filling his brain until he couldn’t hear himself think. Then silence had become a friend, a preferred setting so dangers could be heard, anticipated, controlled. Survival ruled his life, every painful moment urging him to be alert, conscious,ready. When back in the city, home, noise had come blasting in again; too many questions, too much people knocking into his life again. Every moment of silence, of hesitation from him was analyzed and decrypted as trouble. So he had picked up the habit of filling the blanks, muttering lies for the benefit of others, appearing to be whole while fighting the urge to run away from it all. And then there was Felicity.

She was the calm within the storm; the one who could nimbly pick his thoughts apart, read the lines on his face and the ghosts in his eyes so clearly. The one who stayed by his side, who came back, who put up with his failures and short comings, from now and back then. The one that made him feel like he could be himself with, darkness and all; that made him feel _safe_.

She must had noticed he was staring, blue pools lost in the distance yet so aware of every move she made, every breath she took. If she did she let him, sensing he needed to collect his thoughts, or even needing to gather hers as well. Silence remained until she had well downed her first glass and was nursing her second; his laid nearly untouched on the coffee table. He neither needed nor wanted the haze it brought onto his mind, now only drank just enough to taste the rich flavor, keep up appearances when necessary; but not tonight.

There was little pretending when Felicity turned to him again, clear eyes so open, inviting, delicate lips parting tasting the words on her tongue. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” She paused for a moment; his slight nod gave her the last incentive needed. “That day at your place when you told me about… before; you said that after the ship tipped over your father had made it to the life raft. Yet… I’m sorry if this is too much, I’ll just drop it.” 

“No.” He paused, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t holding back, not anymore, not with her. “He did. We survived the shipwrecked, but were stranded on the raft, no land in sight. After a while he realized both of us couldn’t live on with what we had. So… he took the gun and shot himself.” 

“Oliver…” Her voice drifted off, an offer to stop, a sigh of pain, of regret. 

Still he went on, taking a moment to ponder each word before it left his lips. Those were thoughts he had kept to himself for so long, burdened by them, ashamed, afraid. Yet one word from her lips and he knew she could handle it, she would take it in and not run away, even if he felt like he deserved it. 

“His last words were ‘survive’.” His eyes were lost in the distance, a humorless chuckle filling the room after a full minute of silence. “You know, sometimes I hated him for that; _dying_ for me, having that in my conscious. On the island I wanted to die, so many times to just let go… it would’ve been so easy. Yet there he was, in the back of my mind telling me I had to go on, ‘right his wrongs’.”

She placed a hand on his face, awakening him from his gaze, mind lost on his island days. When he focused back on her she could clearly see the anguish in his gaze, her thumb gliding over the planes of his face. Blue eyes shut in response, relishing in her touch, trying to keep the tears stinging the back of his eyes from falling free.

They sat like that for a while, neither knew how long, until one of his hands caught hers, stilling her movements.

“Thank you,” he whispered before leaving the softest kiss against her knuckles, dark eyes meeting once more for her to see how grateful he was.

“Anytime;  I mean it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> As always, encouragement or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. (especially in these times when I feel like I'm failing this story :s)


	13. With love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the fallout around them; the growth of a 'them'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> 'I'm sorry' doesn't even begin to cover how I feel about this unintended break on updating this story.  
> Truth is I needed a break from how writing it made me feel (super angsty and pressured -self-imposed really-), focusing on my personal life (which has been quite an emotional roller-coaster with mostly down turns as of late 2014). I felt quite blocked and unhappy with what I had in plan for this story, so I focused on writing whatever I could in another front.  
> I'm glad to say that, though it took a long time, it worked. Coming back after months of practice and loads of reading, I feel more sure and inspired to face the last stretch of this story.
> 
> I really really really hope you like it!! (if there's someone still in this journey with me, which I hope there is/are :)  
> Now, without further ado (read, excuses and useless explanations), thank you for your patience, and here goes the long delayed return.

_You called me out and taught me tough_

_With love, with love._

_You fought my flaws, my teeth, my claws_

_With love, with love._

_Cause every time I'm slipping away from myself,_

_You're the one that moves me like nobody else._

 

 

She could see him slipping away.

The Count, a known threat that had a very special pull in Oliver’s restraint, came back, and with it the apprehension and ever-present guilt Oliver had over his decisions.

Because Vertigo had hurt Thea, yet he had let the responsible party live.

Felicity and Diggle were at his side, silently reassuring his choice, helping cleanse the blood he now felt on his hands. 

Through their best, facing the weight of the choices made, he made through it, holding back the urge to go back to the familiar, trained part of himself that turned to straight-out killing, eliminating the threats entirely for the sake of it being the safest choice for the mission; because as a whole he now knew it wasn’t the best choice at all.

It took some stepping back, but at last Oliver could see he was not the same man that had started his crusade months before.

With a satisfied smile, Felicity left the foundry that night, feeling lighter at seeing Oliver acknowledged the change and feeling at peace with it.

Yet in the floor above, between a closed case and the exit, she found another frowning Queen.

Thea stood on the empty dance-floor, troubled eyes etched on the screen before her, where the news of the man who had over-dozed on Vertigo in the aquarium was being reported.

Seeing the shaky way she held herself, Felicity felt for her, knowing Thea was surely picturing herself in that man’s place.

With careful yet noisy steps Felicity approached her, whispering a ‘hi’ once she turned around to greet her.

Thea flashed her a small smile that didn’t quite reached her eyes but didn’t scream ‘I wanna be alone’ either.

“You okay?,” Felicity asked before she could stop herself.

Though they were far from close, the young Queen and her had crossed paths on the club a few times, exchanging polite words until Oliver showed up and they had to rush to work downstairs. Yet Felicity felt she knew her better than that, from Oliver’s words and stories told years ago, and snippets of her life now shared since his return.

Judging by the warmer smile Thea gave her in reply and the lack of confusion by her intrusion, Felicity felt Thea knew more about her that she was aware as well.

“Not really, if I’m honest. Can’t help thinking that could’ve been me, you know? What sets us apart?,” she trailed off, losing back on the story; lips curved downwards and slumped posture. 

Felicity sighed at the sight.

“Apparently guilt runs in the family,” she mumbled under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just... If there’s a lesson I keep finding myself learning is that happiness does not come from hanging onto past mistakes. We can’t very well change or erase them, but we can choose to move forward and make them right. Learn from them.” 

Felicity paused as Thea pondered her words; and in her young features Felicity saw the understanding and determination Oliver had been showing more of with each passing day.

“Your brother is doing that, you know?”

With the mention of Oliver, Thea’s clear eyes focused back on hers, a frown beginning to form on her forehead. Yet the complaint about his strangeness she once used to voice without hesitation was gone, replaced by curiosity and deep thinking.

“I see,” she finally said, “it’s just taking me time to get used to how he is now- who he’s trying to be.”

Felicity just replied with a warm smile, the silent understanding hanging around them for a while until the young Queen’s lips curled up into a smirk that screamed mischief.

“It’s nice to know you’re the girl my brother’s been pining for.”

That was... definitely not what she was expecting. 

“I’m-”

“I may not have seen him for a long time but I know lovesick when I see it.” 

Speechless for once, and blushing at Thea’s inquisitive look, Felicity settled for smiling.

“It’s fine, more than fine actually,” Thea finally said, chuckling as Felicity exhaled in relief. “Really, I see now what you saw about Ollie. How he’s trying. And I’m sure it has to do with having you in his life as well, so I wanted to say thank you.”

“He’s helped me too,” Felicity limited to say, knowing Thea would fight her if she argued her on it.

“I’m glad. About all of it,” she added placing a hand to her arm, smiles lingering for a few meaningful moments before mirth took over her tone again. “And as we’re both in the business of helping Ollie, how do you feel about getting him up to speed on pop culture with me? ‘Cause so far it’s been a lost on my front. The other day he asked about Fall Out Boy still being cool.”

Silence gave way to their amused laugher, playful conversation taking place at Oliver’s expense. Seeing how carefree and light Thea seemed now as they planned on updating his phone’s playlist -for all of their sakes-, Felicity felt at peace and with a newfound admiration for the younger Queen.

Being a fighter apparently also run in their blood.

 

* * *

A week later and Team Arrow was down a partner.

It all started with a case strangely prompted by Tommy.

The silent partner, apart from helping to cover up their operations from a blood-hound Detective Lance and running the front of their Arrow cave -as Felicity and him warmly named it, much to Oliver’s chagrin-, did charity work linked with Child Services. 

After his mother’s death, losing his father by distance and his best friends in a ship-wreck, Tommy had found the cause and felt it close to his heart. Laurel’s empathy and care for the people and achieving justice had resonated with him, especially when the void of her presence dug a deeper hole in his chest by the years.

(Oliver refrained from asking further about it, but it became clear with each passing talk that his best friend had been heart-broken more than just lost. He didn’t blame him for it one bit; more like he blamed himself for not having noticed it before and pulled them all out of their misery.)

And though Tommy’s involvement was usually monetary, the case of a newly-orphaned little boy -much like he had been-, became personal.

Likewise, Dig found himself battling with his demons in the form of his brother’s elusive killer.

And Oliver was stuck in the middle.

Stating priorities, assessing danger he was familiar with; as well as with the bitter taste of not being good enough.

As his brother in arms walked away that night feeling betrayed, he couldn’t find it in himself to take it back, falling into the familiar feel of defeat and guilt that came with it.

 

* * *

“So how much longer until you pull your pretty head out of your you-know-what and talk to Dig?”

Felicity’s voice was laced with humor yet serious, if the pressing on the wound on his arm was any indication. 

“We would all be better back to normal; less silence, sulking and bruising, I’m sure,” she went on when Oliver just grunted in reply.

“I made a choice helping Tommy; he disagreed. Everyone’s free to walk away from this whenever they want, you know that. So did Dig, and he took that out.”

Sighing in complaint, Felicity carefully finished the stitching before facing him again.

“Oliver, it’s not like that anymore. You can’t keep acting as if this is just you now,” she argued, signaling the almost empty place around them.

“You chose to let us in, help, share the burden and the task; and before you try to apologize, just don’t. ‘Cause we chose to stay as well. And yes, there are disagreements, just as we had. But you didn’t give up on me.”

She paused as their eyes met, just then realizing somehow her hand had found her way to his face, fingers gently caressing his jaw, the sharp lines then the softness of his cheeks. 

“That’s different,” Oliver whispered with a pointed look.

“No, it’s not. John is your partner too, and deserves an apology as well; chocolate based or not,” she finished with an upturn of her lips.

He breathed out in defeat, mulling her words and relishing her touch, the one that was becoming more familiar and like home every day.

With one fallout after another, matters of life and death literally weighing on them every day, dealing with what they were now, what they _could_ be, had to be put on the sidelines. Yet they allowed themselves small moments like that one, passing looks and gentle touches, that said without words that there was a _they_.

As their eyes met again that night, he leaned into her touch, letting the hands cradling his face guide his movements, until their eyes closed in content with the touch of their lips.

Not a minute of ease had gone by before a chirp pulled her away.

“Do you really have to get that?,” Oliver breathed as he rested his forehead on hers, their eyes locked.

She looked apologetically over her shoulder, only to stiffen at the sight of her screens.

“Actually, I really do.”

The grip on his face lessened as their eyes met again, Oliver reading the fear and seriousness in hers.

“It’s Walter. I may have found an in.”

 

* * *

He would never forget the fear of letting her go on a mission. 

Of hearing her voice in his ear knowing this time she was the one in the front lines.

As he would never forget the pride at her calm demeanor despite the nerves bubbling beneath the surface. At the risks she was willing to take for Walter’s sake, for the team’s purpose.

Oliver knew she was in, on the journey, on the fight.

Just as he knew that he was in love with her.

Seeing her determination and kindness above all as they stood in the alleyway, he had to fight harder than ever to refrain from saying them out loud.

Instead he placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye, thankful for her smile and nod in return before facing the danger.

And then, on the other end, danger past and desolation found, he’d taken hold of her shoulder again, and puller her close and made them safe; just as she did to him every single day just by being there.

 

* * *

 

Grief was short-lived. Walter was alive.

That should’ve made him happy, better than the crippling uncertainty of not knowing, or knowing what he assumed to be the worst.

Yet it wasn’t.

Sitting in the darkness of the foundry, silence and hollowness swallowing him once again, the long repressed dread that his mother was involved in the undertaking finally kicked in.

“Oliver...”

Felicity’s whisper reached him as she carefully approached him, having rushed back upon his call.

Lights came back to life around them, yet he didn’t move or sprung to action, as he would’ve done were this any other case.

“My mother. You and Dig were right. She’s a part of this.”

His voice sounded broken, disheartened. 

She paused by his side, kneeling and letting a hand fall to his shoulder; the silent support they’ve grown to give each other.

“I’m sorry,” were her gentle words whispered before she got to work.

 

Anger and hurt followed, pouring out of him one strike at the time, until every guard was down and Walter was freed.

Then Oliver carefully tucked those emotions back, deep into his chest, where his sister and mother wouldn’t feel them, at least for that night.

Betrayal and sorrow pulled at his heart at the sight of his mother, rushing to her husband’s side, while secretly causing the wrongs Oliver had been fighting to right.

He was startled as a hand took hold of his left one, halting the anxious rubbing of his arrow fingers.

“Hey,” Felicity breathed bringing him to her. “Tomorrow,” she simply whispered as their eyes met, smiling up at him and leading them into the room to welcome her friend home.

Her fingers were slipping from his hold as they approached his family’s side, surely to avoid the questions, yet Oliver felt not only the need but the _want_ to hold on. 

Hold on to her strength, to her faith and warmth; to the idea of a tomorrow instead of drowning on the yesterdays, as they’d both been for far too long.

Her once curious look at his pull on her hand turned into a smile of acknowledgment and support, fully enclosing his again as he finally lead them inside.

To Walter’s side and Thea’s smile of welcome. And to Moira’s look of confusion at their joined hands, that was promptly overshadowed by Oliver’s soft caress on the back of her hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Thank you so much for reading!!_
> 
> I'm aware this is an odd chapter in comparison, a little bit rushed, and not full of the expected olicity; but it was necessary to deal with what happens in those episodes in between and what comes ahead. And, though the focus isn't exactly on them full time, there's a lot of growth and individual realisations happening :)   
> I promise (and lightly tease) that next chapter is full of olicity goodness and the long awaited serious talk about their relationship.
> 
> Another thing I'd like to announce is that, as I've stated beforehand, this story is a season one re-write following my made-up pre-island events, so this fic will end with the events of the season finale. That means just two more chapters (already fully planned, and in the writing stage, yay!). I'm doing my best to attack those while I'm still in a good-writing zone and, though by now I've learnt not to make promises on update schedules, I'll try my hardest to not delay publishing like before.
> 
> Now last but definitely not least... actually, it's the most important thing in these never-ending notes: THANK YOU! For sticking with me even through update withdrawal. For your words of encouragement through kudos, comments, tumblr messages and such. They mean a lot more than I could possibly say.   
> If anyone's still here with me, I'd love more than anything to hear from you :)
> 
> xo, Lucy


	14. Make it last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The light at the end of the tunnel. The hope of an ‘us’ it brings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re almost at the end of the road. Just one more chapter/episode to this journey’s end.  
> I’m really proud and excited about this chapter, since it’s one I begun writing a long time ago, from everything they needed to say and the place they’ve been growing to come since the beginning.  
> I really hope you enjoy the path paved.

_I used up_

_A lot of chances_

_But you give them back_

_But if again_

_It comes crawling_

_Im gonna make it last.._

 

 

It took Oliver one more day. To swallow his pride and turn to Dig, to plead for forgiveness in the only way he could, to ask for support in what would become his greatest battle yet.

His mother.

Anger and confusion reigned him, body and mind, at facing his mother’s evilness again. Thankfully Diggle understood, as always, in that calm stoic way of his that somehow made Oliver feel like no more words were needed.

Like he wasn’t alone anymore.

Once before he had let his emotions cloud his judgement where Moira was concerned. Not again.

“You sure about this?,” Felicity asked as Diggle worked on putting the hood on one more time.

“Yes. It’s the only way,” Oliver asserted, lightly touching her shoulder, in a silent promise that that wouldn’t go sour like last time.

If only he would have known how wrong he was. For not a bullet to the heart he received this time, but a blow to his emotions. 

His mother wasn’t a heartless mass murderer -that was a role reserved for his best friend’s father-, but had been strong-armed into collaborating all along, for Walter, his and Thea’s sake. That truth revealed lifted the weight on his chest momentarily, quenching the burning anger and depression over his mother’s ways.

But, as usual, light and peace weren’t in his destiny; the lifted weight falling ten times heavier onto him at the reveal that the boating accident that ended Laurel’s and his father’s life, and deviated his into the path of purgatory, had been no accident at all.

He was seething, seeing red and cursing Malcolm’s name with everything in him. 

Oliver thought he knew hatred. Towards his father for imposing his own burden on him; towards his various kidnappers and torturers over the years after the shipwreck; towards himself for every wrong turn he’d ever taken in his life; even towards Malcolm Merlyn himself for his poor treatment and overall neglect of Tommy throughout their growing years.

But nothing compared to the fiery loathing coursing his veins right then and there.

For Malcolm had not only ruined _his_ and his loved ones' lives once, but was intent on ruining half the city’s population’s as well by mass murder.

His mother’s crying did little to slow him down; neither did Felicity’s tender touch on his cheek upon returning to the foundry, her evident worry over his new set of bruises falling to death ears.

Steel-focus barely reined his anger in as they worked towards preventing this one fall out. 

Malcolm had ruined enough lives already. Oliver would not let his city down this time.

 

* * *

 

Getting into Merlyn’s mainframe had been a needed success, that eased the leash strangling Oliver’s rage a notch. 

A full day of hacking later and Felicity had discovered the machine’s location. A final ping of her computer that somehow made them all breathe a little lighter. 

There was hope, a solution and, for Oliver, the end of a road.

Diggle silently took the job of retrieving the death machine and put an end to this -neither of the three daring to speak out loud how it couldn’t simply be over so easily-. Felicity took her leave as well, a needed break from the screens and darkness around them, insisting Oliver did the same. 

It was almost over. They could have a night.

He shrugged it off with a grateful smile her way, arguing he just needed a moment.

Part of him didn’t want to go home, to his mother cowering in shame, or to his sister who had unknowingly begun a quest with her boyfriend to find _him_.

Instead he paced the place that had become his preferred home since being back. Oliver let himself take in the myriad of screens and gadgets Felicity had set around, as well as Dig’s training tools and ones of his own. 

At last he reached for his chest, the one material thing he’d brought from his time away. Inside were bits and pieces of the man he’d had to become, the one whose sole priority had been survival, first of himself then of others he loved. 

He gravitated towards his father’s journal; the faded brown leather rough against his touch, like mirroring the edges it had carved on him. Crossed and free names faced him within, of the wrongs he’d long thought his father was talking about.

Yet that day, with Malcolm’s ruthful plan laid bare, Oliver fell to the realization that those were not it.

“The Undertaking,” he whispered into the darkness.

The vile that was poisoning his city. The wrong that had finally pushed his father onto the edge and begging for redemption. _The one_ Oliver had come back to right.

Shock soon gave way to a needed unburdening. For his journey’s end was finally on view, just one wrong away. And then he’d be free. Of the hold of his father’s promise, of the weight of his mission, of the hood and everything that came with it.

Oliver Queen would _finally -_ after an eternity of forced hands, fighting and surrendering- have a choice on his life.

And without a doubt he knew what that choice was.

_Felicity_.

The hope for tomorrow being so close he could taste it, Oliver couldn’t wait much longer. Five years had been long enough.

Without further thought he left the darkness behind for one last time and jumped on his bike, roaring his way through the Glades to her place, to the ghost of yesterday that had morphed into the most beautiful today and an even more promising tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Felicity opened the door at his third insistent knock.

With sleepy eyes and in her comfort clothes, but fully awake and smiling at the sight of him. No words voiced, she took a step aside, his welcome being handed in the form of a warm cup of coffee and another bright smile as they settled once more on her couch.

Their easy silence settled in place, warmth and comfort filling them for the first time in weeks. Trepidation and constant danger had stood in their way for far too long; but soon it’d be over, Oliver reminded himself as he looked over at Felicity besides him.

“Where’s your head at?,” she whispered as their eyes met.

“Us,” he shared in a heartbeat, a smile finding its way to his lips. He wasn’t unaware how more often that happened in her calming presence.

“We...,” he begins cautiously, picking up his train of thought at her slight nod in reassurance, “we never did have that talk.”

The talk.

The long awaited one after one charged archery lesson and more than their fair share of loaded moments.

“Yeah, we had far more than enough on our plates I’d say,” she argued in their defense.

He was nervous. Not a common occurrence for him, but then again hardly anything had ever mattered this much to Oliver in his whole life.

“You said you needed time,” he whispered after a short pause.

“I did. I’ve had,” she shared after a beat, lowering her cup next to Oliver’s discarded one on the table and fully turning to face him then.

“ _Felicity_...”

It was just a whisper; just her name. Yet it enclosed everything he was failing to voice.

Their eyes locked, her silently beginning to cross the space between them. 

“I gave up fighting this long ago,” she admitted at last, much to his delight, as she brought them closer. “I don’t forget, and I may have my reservations because of... my past and _our_ past.”

One inch closer, followed by another of his, until it was _them_ in the middle.

“But I’m done fighting the inevitable.”

Then a breath, a pause, a kiss.

A first brush of her lips to his that prompted a sigh from his parted ones, then quickly ignited quite a different fire within him. One that burned brighter and more urgently than any other he’d felt before.

For it wasn’t just lust fueling its brazing amber, but a terrifying, all-encompassing love as Oliver had never felt before.

Words had never been his friends, so he poured every ounce of emotion she’d provoked in him during these five years into the kiss. 

Pressing with just enough pressure to show his intent, then licking a path over her lips and into her mouth to begin a most satisfying dance that had them both moaning in content within seconds.

Then with a pressing touch to her shoulder, which he was insanely fond of, and down her arm, to caress her skin as if it were the very first time. Smiling against her lips at her nearing him further in return, a hand of her own cradling his face and increasing the pace to match the one of their drumming hearts.

A single touch soon proved not to be enough, as gentle holding turned into tugging and urging for more. And thus brushing evolved into kissing fervently, proving him once and again how unprepared but oh so delighted he was for Felicity Smoak’s draw.

“ _Oliver_ ,” she breathed against his skin as they parted at last. 

A question and an answer all in one, quite alike the one raging in his gaze right then.

And, as always, Felicity needed no words to both get and resolve it.

Her hand slid down his face and to the hand lightly holding her waist. With a purposeful tug and meaningful look, that shredded any doubt and apprehension he thought she could have about them, she led the way up and away.

The next two hours were the heaven to the hell they’d lived to get there.

For they were more than they’d ever been before. Skin and bone, so acutely trained to get along it’d had scared him if he didn’t want it so badly, and saw it reflected as well in her deep blues every time their eyes met.

With her touch, her lips and whispered nothings that meant everything, Oliver let himself love and be loved for the first time in the right way.

Under a darkening sky, with Felicity’s warmth and kindness searing a path over his skin he never wished to erase, Oliver felt happiness as he’d rarely had before. In the remaining darkness, as they climbed their way to their joined pleasure, he finally let loose those three words that had lived on his tongue for so long.

Her widening smile and breathy response filled the last piece missing in himself.

As the last traces of gentleness faded away to give place to the unbridled passion that had driven then forward so long, they let go once and for all. From their fears and distractions, from whatever was holding them back, to dive instead head first into the wonderfully unknown of tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

There was a stillness around them. Within him too, for once. Other than his slowing heartbeat, there was no battling inside of him but a welcomed quiet and peace with the knowledge that there was no more running to do.

Not from his father’s words, for that journey was coming to an end. And certainly not from the woman he loved, as he enveloped Felicity in his arms and held her close, wondering at the way she nestled herself closer to him.

“Thank you,” he found himself whispering into the dark, brushing a tender kiss to her forehead.

“Oh, you’re more than welcome for all that. I’m just as thankful.”

Wonder warmed him again at the easy way their laugher filled the quiet around them. It died down soon afterwards, giving place to their other kind of quietness; the one in which they could easily speak their truths in so few words.

He felt her shifting against him as she settled in what to voice next.

"Why?," was strangely her chosen thought. At his silence she clarified, "why did you kiss me that day, at your club? Why did you take that step?"

He pondered it for just a beat, rewinding to the fateful night he had taken that leap towards their present. At last, with nothing but honesty and care tainting his words, he said:

"Because the one thing that was holding me back stopped making sense."

She took his words in carefully, knowing her reaction was what halted them then, but something besides the fear of rejection had been holding him back beforehand. 

"Putting you in danger,” he finally elaborated, “being connected to me, as the vigilante or as Oliver, would put you in harm's way. That's what I feared the most. Yet..."

"I was _already_ in danger," she filled for him. 

It made sense. If there was something Oliver had in spades, besides guilt and regrets, was the self-appointed duty to look after everyone he cared about, to the point of resigning his own health and happiness for it.

"Yes. After the Dodger case, and then the casino, it was pretty clear that excuse was just to fool myself."

She was stunned into silence by his honesty, for she had grown to expect it from him since he’d come back, but not to the point that he had stopped fighting himself like that.

It was true. One is always one’s worst enemy.

Knowing it was time to face her own truth and bare it all, Felicity turned to face him, the gentle smile gracing his usually-somber features supporting her choice.

“Oliver...when we met, I wasn’t the best version of myself either.”

“Felicity, you don’t have to-”

“I do, I want to,” she was fast to retort to his thoughtful out. Taking a deep breath and half-sitting to face him better, she spoke her truth, just as he had shared his some time ago, in the dim light against a wide window overlooking his garden. “I was just out of college and heartbroken. I was engaged to...a boy I thought I loved, only to find out he didn’t love me back as much anymore. It’s okay really, now at least. In hindsight that was just a disaster waiting to happen. Cooper was...he was _something_ good after a whole lot of suck. My life had been a mess for so long, filled with goodbyes and nothing to hold on to. He was the first stable thing I had, so I grabbed onto it for dear life. It made sense at the time... though a part of me knew it wasn’t right...”

She took a deep steadying breath. He remained still, placing just a gentle touch to her back in silent support. Soon her lips morphed into a humorless smile.

“He cheated then, and I once again faced a goodbye and the uncertainty of being just an _I_. And then I ran again, as soon as I could. My ex-roommate Carrie took me in her place here when I had just a diploma in progress and a whole lot of tears. Turns out her remedy for that was vodka, lots of it.”

A pause, as her features lightened up to give place to a half-smile, the realest he’d seen on her since she’d begun talking.

“And that’s when I met you. You were... _different_ ; a lot at once yet exactly what I needed back then. And for once in my life I found myself not running, or thinking, or wanting to say goodbye...”

“And then the real me came to light,” he supplied at her meaningful silence.

Yet instead of residual anger or further anguish, she actually chuckled in reply.

“No. Yes, the lie was uncovered, and I felt like shit again. But that...the one on the news wasn’t the real you to me. The you that lighted up when he talked about Thea; the one that laughed yet blushed at his games with Tommy. _That_ was the Oliver I fell for back then; the one I mourned then tried to remember when he was gone. I hated him at times, for what he’d made me feel, how he’d left me feeling in his wake.”

“Felicity, _I’m sorry_ ,” he whispered at last, voice breaking at the moisture clear in her crystal eyes, fighting its way down her cheeks even though she was still faintly smiling. Turning his way, their eyes locked once more, the weight of his own wrongdoings to Felicity lightening up slightly with her next words.

“I know. And I forgive you, Oliver. Because I know now without a doubt you’re not that boy as I’m not that girl anymore.” 

Overwhelmed, he simply reached out to cup her face in his hand, lightly closing the gap between them once more to brush his lips against hers in a silent thank you, trusting his touch to do the job his words always failed to do.

“And now...,” she whispered leaning back, “you’re forgiving yourself. Because you can, Oliver; and you should. You deserve happiness,” Felicity added, softly carding her hand through his hair, his smile widening in return, warming something deep within her almost as much as his next words did.

“ _You_ do. You’ve always been, even...in the island; the thought of you never left me.”

Her own lips mirrored his, curving upwards, basking in the calm within the storm.

“Good. I’m glad to hear I haunted you even from half a world away.”

Melodious laugher painted the silence around them once more, making Oliver feel more whole with each passing second with her. And that night he was just beginning to realize she in turn was filling her own missing pieces up with their happiness.

“Felicity...I want to do this right this time,” he breathed into their shared space at once.

No secrets, no lies, no hiding behind shadows and masks but giving himself completely and fully to her like he’d always wanted to. The longest minute of his life stretched between them as she met his gaze with hers, battling thoughts within her before a decision had been reached.

“ _Yes_ ,” she simply answered before etching their smiles together and falling into his arms again, letting careful touches and breathy mumbling do the talking for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Pretty please let me know what you think!! :)
> 
> Next chapter is a big one. With the Undertaking resolution taking place, the calm within the storm will be rattled...
> 
> xo, Lucy

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, encouragement or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)


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